Now and Forever
by Docdonnalove
Summary: A collection of short stories not meant to be connected with one another in any chronological sense, primarily featuring the Doctor and Donna, with occasional guest appearances by Jack Harkness and Martha Jones. Featuring stories that ship and some that don't, some that are lighthearted and some that are heart-wrenching, some that are compact and some that are longer. Complete!
1. Film Fiasco

**Now and Forever **

Disclaimer: Again, I own nothing.

Summary: A set of short stories not meant to be connected with one another in any chronological sense, primarily featuring the Doctor and Donna, with occasional guest appearances by Jack Harkness and Martha Jones. Featuring stories that ship and some that don't, some that are lighthearted and some that are heart-wrenching, some that are compact and some that are longer. Enjoy!

* * *

**Film Fiasco**

The film had started. The Doctor, Donna, Jack, and Martha sat in the intimate theater within the Tardis, a large projector screen before them. Giant, incredibly cozy bean bags filled with what Donna supposed was some kind of soft fluffy material or perhaps even feathers, instead of the traditional beads of Styrofoam, acted as the seats in which they all individually sat. They weren't like any bean bag chairs Donna had ever seen - these were shaped so that there was a back to them, covered in a fabric that was a peculiar yet pleasing cross between leather and velvet. The section where you sat curved like a shallow valley in the middle for extra comfort, and the hollowed out cup-holders held their cylindrical form quite well despite the malleable fluff the seats were stuffed with. 'Probably Martian,' Donna thought. They were arranged in a way that referenced ancient amphitheaters, semi-circularly facing the movie screen.

The Doctor, Jack, and Donna had a bowl of popcorn in their laps, while Martha opted for a delightful box of Poppets.

The Doctor chose to screen a documentary called 'A World Without Zinc,' a selection that no person besides the Time Lord himself was excited about, but since it was his ship, and voting was out of the question (according to the Doctor), this was the best thing they could see (also according to the Doctor). At least it was in 3D.

Still, they all sat in the darkened room, dual-toned paper glasses on, watching the film and munching on snacks for an entire fifteen minutes before anything mischievous took place. Donna was the first to break the silence of the atmosphere, voicing her discontent with a loud sigh. The Doctor hushed her without looking.

Donna turned to Martha who shrugged, grinding a chocolate covered raisin between her teeth, then to Jack who winked in a very Jack Harkness fashion, giving Donna hope that the nightmare of sitting through this dreadful torture wouldn't last much longer. She grinned, biting her lip while she waited for Jack's initial move.

It didn't take long at all.

The Doctor was shoving a handful of popcorn down his throat and chewing like a starving hound, otherwise fully engrossed by the images of microorganisms on the screen, when a barrage of popped kernels showered over him. He spun around in his seat, nearly knocking his bowl to the floor. Donna stifled her laughter (failing terribly) while Martha gazed open-mouthed at Jack. Jack, of course, feigned innocence, gazing at the screen with the most focused stare the three of them had ever seen, absentmindedly snacking on his popcorn.

The Doctor glared at Donna, taking her for the culprit. She stuck her tongue out at him, which made him roll his eyes before turning back around. Jack and Donna shared sly, knowing grins.

For the next ten minutes, Jack and Donna took turns aiming their edible ammo first into the Doctor's popcorn bowl, then at his hands (the one traveling from the bowl to his mouth was particularly entertaining since they considered it a moving target). Jack gestured that they would aim next for the Doctor's styled hair by tugging lightly at his own and pointing at the Doctor. Donna nodded in understanding and agreement. Martha shook her head, popping another chocolate covered raisin in her mouth.

As two handfuls of popcorn bounced off his face, the Doctor growled. "Seriously, guys? This is fascinating stuff!" Neither Jack nor Donna looked convinced by that statement, so he turned to the only other person in the room. "It's amazing, right, Martha?" Martha grimaced. Quite obviously she didn't agree.

The Doctor put his head in his hands.

Since it seemed they had reached another opportune moment, Jack threw one final piece of popcorn.

With a frustrated roar, the Doctor leapt up from his futuristic chair and threw continuous handfuls at both Donna and Jack. Donna screamed between uncontrollable giggling, Jack laughed heartily while he ducked, and Martha chuckled quietly from the sidelines.

The Doctor turned on his loyal companion, "Oh, you think that's funny?" he threw the next handful at her. "Hey!" she shouted, holding up her arms to block the little pieces from making contact with any vulnerable part of her face or neck. Another handful flew down at her, and she stood with her box of Poppets, tilting the open corner into her hand, "That's it, you've done it now!" she began pelting the Doctor with one raisin at a time. "Martha, steady on! Those hurt!" The Doctor pleaded on deaf ears, but Martha had gone mad with glee.

"Alright, go Martha!" Donna cheered. Hearing her praise, the Doctor fired at Donna, one after the other, so of course she fired back at the Doctor. Jack threw popcorn at everyone, occasionally opening his mouth to catch a tasty bite when the light, crunchy morsels flew in his direction. Martha took to hiding behind her chair, braving the open spaces only to catapult more candy. Donna joined her, and for a while they'd formed an alliance against the boys. The theater had transformed into a battleground.

When bowls were empty, and the theater floor thoroughly littered, the four friends collapsed onto their respective chairs and caught their breath, the laughter gradually dying down. Martha and Donna had popcorn in their hair, especially since the Doctor insisted on sweet popcorn whereas Jack and Donna liked it salty, the sweet kind naturally sticker than the salty. Donna shook off a chocolate covered raisin from the bottom of her sock.

Once the room was silent again, the Doctor asked, "So, anyone up for The Private Life of Plants?"


	2. Nightmares

**Nightmares **

She misses them.

She misses them so much.

It hurts, how much she wants them back.

It hurts even more, knowing there's no getting them back...

They're gone forever.

She misses Lee coming home every evening, and seeing Josh and Ella's bright faces absolutely light up, rushing over to deliver their famous 'Daddy hugs.' She misses the 'Mummy hugs,' too.

She misses Lee: the man who accepted her and loved her without conditions. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced with a man in all her years of relationships, the way he devoted himself to her and the children. He always told her she was special, important, and beautiful, always encouraging her and believing in her, and always so kind. So what if he had a stutter, it only made the words he could speak all the more special, especially those three words, the ones Donna would never hear him say again.

It was such a simple life, the kind she never thought she could fit into, but it turned out that with the right man, and two wonderful children, it was a life that fulfilled her beyond her wildest dreams.

Those compassionate eyes, the ones that sparkled whenever they looked on her, she missed them too. His chin on her shoulder, nose pressed in toward her ear as he kissed her neck, arms wrapping around her waist.

She missed their pillow talk after blissful, passionate nights, and the way everything seemed so right as long as he was near her.

She missed bed time stories with her children, tucking them in and kissing their foreheads. She missed little bodies pressed into her sides as the three of them watched cartoons on the telly, waiting on the sofa for daddy to get home or the cookies to bake. Outings in the park, ice cream lingering around their mouths long after the cones were finished, sunshine on their hair, squeals of laughter during tickle fights, kisses on scraped knees, finding toys in trouser pockets when she did the laundry, being able to save them from monsters in the closet, even shouting at them to settle down when they got carried away on one of their adventures. Being a mum.

The frightening redness from the world outside the windows drenches the walls around her, the fear of what's to come next haunting her. She sees them, and they're so close. She wants to wipe the tears from their teeny faces and make it all better like she always did, give Lee a bigger snog than on their wedding day.

She can't. This is only a dream – a nightmare.

'I failed my children' is the worst thought that's ever plagued Donna's mind. She blames herself, naturally, because she couldn't believe strongly enough, and they slipped through her fingers like sand. The most precious and delicate things she'd ever had in all her life, and she lost them.

And she failed Lee, too. She never found him - she never would - and even if he was a computer generated being, she still made the promise, and she was a miserable person for not coming through for the one human being who had always come through for her, in their 7 virtual years of being together.

Professor Song's face appears, full of sadness and pity, a vision that reminds Donna that her imaginary cyber life might not be all she's lost. Something else is going to happen to her. She'll disappear from the Doctor's life for some reason. What else could Professor Song not knowing her in the future mean? More fear spills into the fear already swirling inside, and the sensation coils up and around her spine. She doesn't want to be forgotten, she doesn't want to forget her husband and children either. There isn't room for any more emotion and Donna begins to panic – her heart feels like it's going to burst and she can't breathe.

Her children are screaming. Lee is crying. The three of them are fading into hazy apparitions, slowly dissipating. Donna can't stop it, she can't move, she can't change what happens now. Just like before, it's out of her control. She's failing them, _again_.

Little Josh and Ella call out to her desperately as they disappear, and Lee looks into her eyes until she can't see him anymore. Donna knows they aren't real, yet the pain is unmistakably there, choking her in her sleep. All she can say is how sorry she is, over and over again.

She's alone in the dark - no kids, no husband, not a single person there. She screams at the top of her lungs, crying and shouting their names.

The Doctor wakes her gently, having heard her torment and heartache from down the hall in the library. He tries to keep his hearts from breaking at the sight of her weeping and tossing about in bed, gripping tightly at the sheets, swallowed by distress, guilt, and grief - three things he is beyond acquainted with.

He slips under the covers and smothers her quaking body against his chest to keep her still. She finally wakes, instantly sobbing into his clothing, burying her face in his neck. Her sobs make it impossible for him to keep his own eyes dry.

"Shh, it's alright. It's going to be okay," he tries to console her, rubbing circles on her back, resting the side of his face on the top of her head, "I've got you. Shh, shh, you're fine, Donna. I'm here now. I promise, you're going to be alright."

Her crying dies down to soft whimpering after many minutes pass, and she eventually drifts off to sleep still clutching onto him. He kisses her hair as she rests.

The Doctor didn't know if his future with River would play out. Time could be re-written after all, and besides that, he couldn't imagine any sort of life without Donna being at the center of it. He cared deeply for her, deeper than he cared about anyone, deeper than he was ready to admit. At least for him there was a River out there should time continue as the archaeologist forecasted. River was out there, somewhere, but for Donna, there was no one.

No one except him.

He wonders how many nights she'll have like this. However many, he'll be there beside her, doing his best to help heal her wounds, even if the only way he can do so is by holding her while she cries.


	3. Prankster

**Prankster **

Donna is in the kitchen enjoying her tea with her back against the counter, waiting for her toast to pop. It's morning, and she knows at any moment the Doctor will come striding in. She smiles discretely as she takes another sip.

"Morning, Donna!" he greets cheerfully, right on cue.

She nods and returns the greeting, "Good morning, Doctor." The toast pops and she flinches automatically. Donna puts down her mug to plate two slices for herself and two for the Doctor.

She sits at the table while the Doctor begins rummaging through the cabinets. Donna slathers an even layer of jam on her toast before taking a crispy bite, watching the Doctor in amusement.

"The Marmite's missing!" he inevitably declares, in utter disbelief.

Donna says nothing, instead she takes another bite of her toast.

"Donna, have you seen the Marmite?" he asks while his head is surveying the inside of a cupboard.

"No, Doctor," she says oddly cheerful, "can't say I have."

The Doctor eats toast with Marmite, has been ever since he saw Gramps doing it when they visited Chiswick (another one of Wilf's unhealthy habits Sylvia chided him for, this time rightfully so in Donna's opinion). Donna can't stand the smell, especially since the pungent odor lingers in the kitchen of the Tardis, and no matter how much the old girl tries to vent the air of the room for both her and Donna's sake, it takes hours for the reek of Marmite to dissipate.

The Time Lord slides things around in the cabinets some more, determined to find the jar with the yellow lid. "Donna, are you _sure_ you haven't seen it? I'm certain I put it back in the same place as always."

"I'm sure of it, Doctor. Maybe you simply misplaced it." She offered innocently with a light shrug, finishing her toast. Why you would want to put something so repulsive on a perfectly good piece of bread - or anything for that matter - was beyond Donna.

The Doctor crossed his arms in front of his chest, unsatisfied and bothered.

He spent the next hour trying to find the missing item. With the help of his sonic screwdriver (which really turned out to be no help to him at all), he looked in the trash bin, in the library, by the pool, in his room, in Donna's room thinking maybe she stole it because he knows she hates it, in the living room, between the cushions on the sofa, under the recliner, inside the washing machine, and the lint compartment of the dryer, in the bathroom cabinets because he'd only looked there twice.

He returned to the kitchen, flummoxed. He ran a hand through his already ruffly hair.

Donna was still there, sipping another cuppa and flipping through the pages of a recipe book she'd bought on the last planet they'd visited, feeling the confidence to try cooking a proper meal for a change. The Doctor sat down across from her, tapping his fingers successively on the table, "Donna-"

"Doctor, I told you, I have no idea where your precious Marmite is." She answered dismissively.

He leaned in closer, squinting. She gazed up from the book and quickly returned her eyes to the page as she saw his scrutinous glare.

"You're sure?" he asked flatly, dubious of her given information (or lack thereof).

"Positively."

"Donna Noble, you're a liar!" he slammed his palm down on the table, rising out of his seat.

She feigns taking offense, her mouth open wide in astonishment at his accusation, "I beg your pardon!"

"You hate Marmite! You once said, and I quote, 'Why can't we go back in time and wallop the guy over the head who invented that vile, disgusting sludge.' I've looked all over this place, top to bottom, side to side, room by room, and that jar is nowhere, which means that unless you took it, there's either a burglar on board who only wants to steal Marmite, or it mysteriously disappeared on its own."

"Well I'm sorry Doctor, but you can't hold me responsible for your inability to keep track of things." She says calmly, the faintest smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth as she finishes her statement.

He sees through her façade and an eyebrow pitches skyward. "Donna Noble, you're evil."

She gently closes the book and tucks it in the crook of her arm, taking her cuppa in the other hand. She walks around the table and stops to look the Time Lord in the face. "And you Doctor," she backs up toward the the door without breaking eye contact, watching as the Doctor turns himself around to follow her with his eyes, "…are without a jar of Marmite." She accompanies her matter-of-fact declaration with a wink, then disappears from view. The Doctor can hear her snickering as she heads down the hall. He rolls his eyes, then beings stroking his chin, eyes darting around the kitchen for possible hiding spots.

He spends 20 minutes tearing the kitchen apart. Still no Marmite.

He plops down in Donna's usual seat as he thinks among the wreckage, 'If I were Donna, and I wanted to hide something from someone as clever as me, where would I hide it?' A thought strikes him, and he allows his hands to explore the underside of the table. His eyes bulge when he feels the familiar shape of his coveted jar. He ducks down to peer under the table.

"Are you kidding me?" he says, spotting the jar taped to the underside of the table, hidden in plain sight, more or less. He snatches it and punches the air in triumph.

Stepping over the mess he knows he'll have to clean up lest he want to face the wrath of both the Tardis and his best mate, he places two slices of bread in the toaster and pushes down the lever with a champion's enthusiasm. Once the toast pops, he giddily unscrews the lid, knife in hand. He's shocked to find the inside of the container washed clean - not just all gone, used up, or empty, but good and properly washed-with-soap-and-hot-water clean.

"That sneaky little... That's it," he grumbles, retrieving a chair and dragging it over to a counter. He opens the cupboard door and reaches for the top shelf while standing on the chair, extending his arm all the way to the back where a tin of Donna's favorite biscuits resides. "Two can play at that game." He voiced aloud, and began gobbling up the delicious treats.

A few hours later:

Donna opened the fridge, hoping the Tardis would have something for her. When she sees what's waiting for her, in all its creamy glory, she is impressed, to say the least. She gives a grateful smile to the ceiling, and the lights flicker tenderly in response. She carefully slides the dessert off the shelf and onto her palm, following the Tardis's flashing lights along the corridor. They stop at the library entrance.

"Thanks, love!" she whispers, patting the wall affectionately before heading forward, tip-toeing in spy-like silence.

There's a fire going, crackling wood sending tentacles of flames outward and upward in a small blaze of orange light. The enormous armchair in front of the fireplace is faced away from her, occupied by the Doctor. His spiky hair peeks from over the top of the furniture. He must be reading a very intriguing book, as he doesn't notice her creeping up behind him.

She is as close as she can be, breath held within her chest, her face no more than an inch from the velveteen fabric of the grand chair. Her arm darts around the side of the chair to push the pie in his face with a masterful speed. He sits there stunned as she gives a celebratory whoop before running for the exit, shouting, "Your move, Spaceman!" from down the hall. The Tardis too, much to the Doctor's chagrin, seemed to be producing the equivalent of laughing.

The Doctor swipes his hand down the front of his meringue-covered face (appreciating the fact that the pie was at least banana cream after he licks his pinky) before leaping up and running for the door, calling out toward the ceiling, "You may be in cahoots with my best friend, but don't forget it's me who tightens all your bolts and greases all your pistons at the end of the day!"

The Tardis was not daunted - how could she be? The very sight of the Doctor's messy face was enough to keep her happy for days. She instead helped Donna find a door to hide behind, and before long the chase between the two friends turned into something out of a Scooby-Doo episode, running in and out of doors at different times, up and down the halls, coming so close to contact but out of sync by mere seconds.

The Doctor recognized the door on his right - it was Donna's. As he approached it, it cracked open, allowing enough room for a pale forearm clutching a white towel to slither through. "Truce?" came Donna's voice, followed soon by a sliver of her face peeping out at the Time Lord from the sanctuary of her bedroom.

"Truce." The Doctor agreed, snatching the towel from Donna and wiping the confection from his face. He pushed his palm against the door to enter, and was drenched in water almost as soon as the door opened. He looked at the empty bucket on the floor beside him, down at his soaked clothing, and finally at his ginger companion, rolling on the ground with laughter so merry it looked painful.

* * *

_A) I have no idea if pistons require regular greasing, B) I haven't a clue what Marmite is like, and C) I hope Scooby-Doo is something people all over the world are familiar with, otherwise that comparison was totally lost..._

_I was going to include a tickle and/or pillow fight right at the end, but I was worried the chapter would have gone on too long. Your imaginations could probably do the job just fine, I'm sure! _

_More to come..._


	4. Jedi Prime

**Jedi Prime**

The Doctor burst into Donna's room. He leapt onto the bed of his very best friend, flopping down on his side beside her. The entire bed quaked and bounced. "Donna? Donna. Donna, wake up! Donna. DONNA!" he jiggled her shoulder.

She groaned and kicked him off the bed. He landed on the floor with a thud but was so excited, he got up as if it never happened.

"Come on, sleepyhead! You've got all the time in the world to sleep, I should know! Let's go!" He began tugging on the blankets.

Donna held onto the covers tightly. She could feel the soreness in her throat as she tried to tell the Doctor to bugger off. Instead she just coughed, a lot.

"Oh no, Donna. Don't you dare. You can't get sick today, not today!"

"Stop shouting, you git." She warned in a raspy voice, covering her head with a pillow.

"Don't worry, Donna. I've got just the thing for a cold." He pushed out his chest, straightening his back. He grabbed hold of her robe hanging behind the door, and tied the sleeves around his neck, wearing it as a cape. He gave a salute even though she couldn't see, and strode heroically out into the hall.

Minutes later, he entered again, silky cape/robe billowing behind him, this time carrying a cuppa in one hand and a bowl of soup in the other. Donna peered out at him from under the duvet.

"Did you make that?" she asked suspiciously.

"No, silly, I had help." The Tardis hummed louder, and Donna's fear of eating anything the Doctor had made quelled instantly. The time he tried to put together a three-tiered banoffee pie would scar her for life.

The Doctor placed the items down on the bedside table, and reached into his pocket. "Take these, Doctor's orders." He grinned a classic smile.

Donna obediently swallowed the two pills, and sipped her tea. The Doctor sat on the edge of the bed, scooting backward so his spine was flush against the headboard. Donna looked up at him from reddened, puffy eyes. "What do you think you're doing?" her voice was nasally. Her congestion had 5 o'clock traffic beat by a mile.

He smiled, "Waiting for you to get better, what else?"

"Colds last days, Spaceman. I'm sorry, but I think our trip to…" she thought for a moment, "Jupiter Chime, or whatever it's called, is gonna have to wait." She ended the sentence on a sneeze.

"Bless." He handed her the box of tissues. "And it's Jedi Prime, Donna, not Jupiter Chime. You're gonna love it! Jedi Prime: a planet devoted to all things Star Wars." He described, wonderment lacing his tone, a faraway look in his eyes, he might have even started to daydream.

Another round of sneezes brought him back to reality.

"Gesundheit." The Doctor said after watching her sneeze, finding it oddly comical. She caught his amused expression and tossed a pillow at him. He gave a small laugh at her behavior, feisty even when she's sick. "Eat your soup and get some rest, Donna. As a matter of fact, I think I'll get some for myself, too. Always love a good soup, me. Love the slurping." He winked, and left her alone.

He walked down the corridor towards Donna's room a few minutes later, whistling Sprit in the Sky by Doctor and the Medics, bowl in one hand, a movie he could watch with Donna in the other. Had to pass the time somehow, right?

He reached her open door but sighed when he saw her passed out on the bed. "Oh well," he sighed, "guess that medicine is working faster than I planned."

He put the film on anyway, made sure Donna was tucked in, ate his soup, and waited.

Later that night:

The halls of the Tardis illuminated in bright flashes of blue and purple light. Grunts of expended energy and shouts of triumph, combined with the sound of clashing lightning bolts, filled the corridors as the Doctor and a fully recovered Donna dueled with their newly acquired lightsabers.

* * *

_I hope these silly chapters aren't too OOC. If they are, please tell me!_


	5. Hot Coffee, Cold Eyes

**Hot Coffee, Cold Eyes**

_Note: This is post-JE, the one we're all (unfortunately, because we love Donna) familiar with._

* * *

The Doctor watched her from his table. He wore a flat cap and held a newspaper in his hands, a pair of thick-rimmed glasses resting on his nose. The jacket he was wearing was one he borrowed from the days of his previous incarnation. A long since abandoned cup of coffee sat on the tabletop in front of him, barely sipped.

She sat in front of the window with her own cup of coffee and a notebook. She scribbled in it, and he wondered what about. She stopped every now and then to just stare into the world going by on the opposite side of the glass.

The steam from the hot beverage wafted up towards her nose, half of her face shielded by her ginger hair. He always loved that ginger hair of hers. He couldn't understand why she didn't appreciate it for the gorgeous asset it was.

He stood up and headed toward the loo, because it was conveniently located on Donna's side of the café. He walked passed, stealing a gaze down at the book.

_Monday, January 12_

_Had that dream again. Tall man. Blue box. Stars all around. It feels wonderful: being where I am feels like home, and I know I would never want to leave it, not even when I wake up. _

_Same dream for months, still don't know what it means._

_It's times like these I miss having Gramps to talk to. Dad, too. _

The Doctor washed his hands in the sink, shaking the water off and raking his fingers through his hair.

He left the loo just as she was putting the book in her bag, picking up the coffee and heading for the restrooms. He deliberately bumped into her, muttering an apology while she did the same. Since he didn't move out of the way immediately, Donna looked at his face questioningly. "Excuse me." She uttered quietly, and stepped to the side of him, disappearing behind the door without another glance in his direction.

He could smell the coffee most, but he could smell her more. He'd missed that.

While he walked back to the Tardis, it was the look in her eyes as she glanced up that he couldn't get out of his mind. They were cold, unresponsive, and blank. They weren't Donna's eyes, for those eyes sparkled with life, with energy, with compassion and with fire; they belonged to a person who was brave and confident, a person who had hope. Now Donna was depressed, lonely, and unloved.

He couldn't bear it.

* * *

_If anyone has a suggestion for an idea they'd like to see me take a crack at, I might be willing - feel free to leave your suggestions in a review or send me a message. Pleasant reading! :)_


	6. The Doctor's Daughter Lives

**The Doctor's Daughter Lives**

_So the suggestion was to save Jenny, and it starts out that way, but then my brain had other ideas and my fingers were helpless to follow. I struggled quite a bit with this one, to be honest._

* * *

Flashes of images race before his vision like a rapid slideshow, the energetic smile of the young blonde and her bright eyes blurring like a passing train. The Doctor watches as the reel slows, and the only image left is of Jenny reaching out to him with open arms to loop around his neck, squealing with glee as she goes in for a hug. "Thanks, dad." She whispers, and it's as he coils his arms around her petite frame that the shot rings out, the offensive, deafening noise echoing in his ears. He feels her jolt within his arms, and in the next instant, he is sitting up in bed sweating and breathing heavily.

He can't accept it. She'd been gone only for a few hours, naturally he'd be upset and troubled, but he just couldn't let this go. Something in his heart was tugging at his brain, firing spitballs at it, banging on it, swinging alarm bell after alarm bell in its general direction.

He quickly made his way to the console room, where he found Donna sitting on the jump-seat without a cuppa for once. She sat with a blanket wrapped around herself, failing to notice him enter for a moment. Truthfully, she wasn't without troubles of her own over what had happened.

"Spaceman, what's going on?" she asked when she noticed him bustling about the console.

"I'm not losing another one, Donna." he said, looking down at the buttons he was pressing instead of at her.

"What do you mean?" she stood, abandoning her blanket and taking a couple steps forward.

He pulled a lever down emphatically and faced her, "We're going to save Jenny."

Donna soon found herself gripping onto the railing as the floor pitched and the walls vibrated. The Doctor was banging on something with a mallet, "Don't start!" he shouted at the time rotor, which wheezed as it shrugged up and down.

"Be gentle, you Dumbo, or I'll whack you with a mallet and we'll see how much you like it!" Donna strongly advised as her body was tugged this way and that, swaying as far as the length of her anchored arms would allow.

They landed on Messaline.

The Doctor threw open the doors and rushed out of the Tardis, leaving Donna to follow hurriedly behind him.

They were back in the same room as before, where Jenny was laid on a bed, only this time, much to the Doctor's befuddlement, the bed was unoccupied. He noticed Cline, scratching his head curiously, and one of the Hath with his arms folded across his chest.

"Where is she?" the Doctor asked, skipping over the more traditional pleasantries.

He expected Cline to answer, but the voice of General Cobb gave the reply. The Doctor spun around to face him - he hadn't noticed the grey-haired gentleman upon arriving.

"She commandeered the shuttle, Doctor. She isn't here." Despite previous events for which he should be ashamed of, the General spoke with a pointed chin and sturdy shoulders, a gaze as hard and apathetic as a stone statue.

"She's alive?" Donna shrieked.

The Doctor stood with a dropped jaw. "How can that be?"

"We don't know," said Cline, "all we know is she opened her eyes, pushed us both out of the way," he motioned to his aquatic partner, "and ran off toward the shuttle bay."

General Cobb continued, "Ultimately, she stole the vessel."

"Did she say anything, where she was going, what her plan was?" The Doctor tried to fish for anything helpful.

"Only that she had planets to save, civilizations to rescue, creatures to defeat, and something about running." Cline supplied. Donna looked at the Doctor, trying to get a sense for his emotions.

The Doctor's shoulders slumped, turning back around to face the empty cot. Donna placed a hand on his arm. "What do we do now, Doctor?"

General Cobb spoke again, "If there is anything our men can do Doctor, you can count on us." The Doctor shot him a look that suggested his refusal to buy into that offer.

He returned to gazing downward, this time placing his hand over Donna's. He searched his brain for possible plans, witty solutions, save-the-day-in-the-nick-of-time scenarios, but he came up with nothing. He didn't have an answer to give. The plan had been to save Jenny, but they didn't know where she was.

Just then, the cloister bell rung out, causing everyone to turn their gazes to the blue box. The Hath bubbled through his breathing apparatus.

The Doctor grabbed Donna's hand, "Come on!"

They ran into the Tardis and the doors closed on their own. As she dematerialized, General Cobb looked to Cline and the Hath soldier. Cline only shrugged, and the three were left wondering what had just happened.

The Doctor was running around the console. Donna looked on, gears turning in her head, trying to formulate some kind of useful suggestion. Her eyes lit up, "What would happen if we contacted the shuttle? Would that work? Could you send out a signal, like a ping or sonar or something? Dial a number? 867-5309 sounds promising…" Donna mused.

The Doctor gave her a mild look of disapproval. "Not the time for jokes."

Donna ran to his side, "I'm sorry, but you're not telling me what's going on. What are we doing?"

The Doctor ran around her, hunched over the controls, grabbing the monitor and staring at it. He put his glasses on, eyes skimming across the read-outs and data with record speed. "Oh yes, brilliant! Just brilliant!"

"What in flippin' hell is so brilliant!?" Donna shouted, the Tardis was beginning to jerk her about again.

"Engine particles, Donna." His eyes scanned the settings and navigational gauges. "Fumes from the shuttle. Jenny left a trail! The Tardis can follow them. They're almost fully dissipated among the cosmos but the old girl's as clever as she is beautiful." He took a deep breath, petting the console and looking at Donna proudly, "We're going to get our girl back!" he was radiating joy, and despite being disgruntled about the bumpy ride, Donna couldn't help but give him a beaming smile.

The Tardis landed with a thud, almost sending Donna backwards on her bum, but after a few circular flails of her arms she steadied. She was on the Doctor's heels as he opened the Tardis doors.

There was an expansive plain of tall grasses before them, the light green blades leaning with the breeze that bent them. As they stepped out and surveyed their surroundings, they noticed the forest acting as the backdrop behind themselves and the Tardis.

They ventured in, and in the time it took for Donna's feet to ache, they stumbled upon a ridge. The Doctor crouched down, pulling Donna down next to him. They huddled near the leaf litter, the fallen trunk of a tree acting as a barricade between them and the group of people below. The Doctor scanned the bodies in the valley.

"Who's that?" Donna whispers.

The Doctor answers in an equally hushed tone, "The blue one, with the elaborate headdress, that's Vikram, he's the leader of the Pandya tribe. And the green one with the yellow hair and silver armor, that's Theodorakis, one of the seven Eversen leaders." He takes a moment to think, something unsettling him as he ponders these congregated species. "This is strange. See," he points a finger from left to right, as if he were choosing between two flavors of crisps, "these two are sworn enemies. Why would they be here?"

"And why would Jenny be here?" Donna adds. The Doctor hums in agreement. While they remain hidden, Donna notices that the two groups aren't communicating, aren't even moving – they're waiting idly, but for what, she doesn't know.

Shattering the stillness abruptly, a figure is dragged in through the center of the divided factions. Two guardsmen take hold of the wrists which are soon fastened by ropes to another rope, attached to a thick wooden dowel. "Oh, dear." The Doctor gasps.

Hoisted by her wrists into the air, dangling like a fish on a line, over a cauldron of boiling water, is Jenny.

'Jenny soup,' Donna muses horrifically. "Let's go Doctor, we don't have a lot of time!" Donna is yanking on his arm, ready to sass the aliens to death if need be in order to save Jenny, but the Doctor is digging around in his coat pocket while simultaneously shrugging her off as gently as possible.

He takes aim with his sonic. "Get ready to run, Donna." He says, closing one eye and looking down the barrel of the sonic screwdriver. Donna gulps nervously.

"Jenny!" he shouts, and once her head snaps toward him, he shouts, "Swing!"

As he presses the button on his sonic, the knots loosen and Jenny throws her weight forward with her legs, clearing the cauldron and running like mad through the crowd. Multiple shouts of 'Get them!' rolled through the gathering like a wave.

The Doctor and Donna are running, too – trying to stay parallel with Jenny despite being separated by forestry and vines and, well, space. They are running back toward the Tardis, trying not to lose sight of her.

"Where is she?" Donna huffs, narrowly missing a tree root.

The Doctor can't tell but doesn't let on. "Just keep up, Donna! Don't fall behind!"

"Oi! Speak for yourself!" She hollers, passing him and taking the lead.

They make it to the Tardis, coming up on its left side from the forest. Walking around to the front, they see Jenny come around from the right.

"Jenny!" the Doctor cries, taking her in his embrace and holding her so tightly he was almost hugging himself.

"Dad!" she returned in equal measure. Donna smiled fondly at the reunion.

"Oh, Jenny." He looked at her, with both hands beside her face, affectionately smoothing her hair. She smiled brightly. "Thanks for that," she said, nodding in the direction from which they'd come. "I guess you found my trail of breadcrumbs."

"More or less." The Doctor laughed. "That was good thinking." Jenny smiled genuinely at hearing her father's praise.

"I really really really don't want to break this up," Donna interrupted looking between them and the greenery, "but I think I can see Vicky and Theo making it through the forest." She gazed worriedly behind the Tardis, "And their buddies aren't far behind."

The Doctor is suddenly alert, ignoring Donna's mispronunciation of the leaders. "Right! Let's go then, everyone in the Tardis!" he ushers the girls inside before heading indoors himself. Jenny turns on him with a pout, confused and slightly miffed at their intended escape.

"Wait, isn't this the part where you show me how it's done? Like on Messaline? You make things right and everyone becomes friends. Those men are going to kill each other if you don't!"

The Doctor wishes he could relish in the proud moment in which she doesn't even make a big deal over the fact that the Tardis is bigger on the inside, but there are other priorities. "It's unfortunately not going to work out that way Jenny, no matter how hard you or I try. The Eversen and the Pandya are like the Hatfield's and McCoy's, their war is a fixed point, and it has to happen. It's like Pompeii;" he looks at Donna apologetically, "it's an important lesson, and I'm sorry you have to learn it right now, like this, but we have no choice. You picked the wrong feud to resolve, if you were a Time Lord you'd know that." The last statement was muttered, but both Donna and Jenny had heard it.

Jenny didn't understand, Donna reasoned as she noticed the expression of disappointment on her face. The girl had taken a blow to her self-esteem. But the Doctor was turned away, already fussing with the controls to get them into the vortex and far from Vikram and Theodorakis's wrath.

Donna walked up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder, causing the young girl to turn around. She spread her arms open with a kind smile, gesturing for a hug, and Jenny eagerly returned the embrace. "It's nice to see you again, Donna." They separated. "Where's Martha?"

"She went home." Donna answered simply. "Um… Jenny, can we talk? Let's go to the kitchen, shall we? Talk over a nice cuppa."

Donna led the two of them out of the control room. The Doctor eyed them suspiciously while turning a valve.

After putting the kettle on, Donna sat beside Jenny.

"You know he's not mad at you, right?"

Jenny looks up shyly. Donna raises her eyebrows, gently encouraging her to respond, but Jenny looks away.

"You can tell me, love." Donna coaxes, but it gets her nowhere. "I saw that look on your face, you don't want to let him down. I get it, really I do. But I want to tell you that you don't need to impress him, and you also don't have to be perfect. You're half a soldier, Jenny, the other half of you comes from him. You need time to figure things out." She picks up Jenny's chin with her finger and turns her face toward her own, glistening blue eyes staring back at her, "Don't be so hard on yourself."

The kettle is whistling, and Donna turns the heat down. She steeps the tea and carries the mugs over to the table where the sugar and milk are waiting.

"I don't know what to do with any of that." Jenny admits.

"It's alright sweetheart, I'll show you. Then you can make tea for your dad. Oh, he'd love that. He drinks more tea than I do!" she said with a soft chuckle.

Jenny smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. After a few minutes, Donna placed a cup in front of each of them, sugar and milk added and stirred. "Easy peasy." Donna commented aloud.

Jenny took a sip, mirroring Donna's actions. "Good?" Donna inquired.

"Mmm." Jenny hummed, eyes closed for a moment as she savored her first taste of tea. She looked at Donna. "Good, definitely good."

They shared a laugh.

The two enjoy their tea in comfortable silence, and Donna finishes first. She goes to rinse her mug in the sink, but before she can lift herself completely out of her seat, Jenny's small hand is on her arm.

"What's wrong, darling?"

"You're right, Donna. I don't want to let him down."

Donna lowers herself back down in her chair once more. She holds the girl's hand to show and offer support.

"I wanted to do what he did. Save worlds, defeat creatures, rescue civilizations, all of it." she explained. "I didn't know if he would find the trail or not. I just knew I wanted to make him proud of me, and instead all I did was make a big mess of things, I almost got myself killed. You can't fail a mission worse than that." She looked down at her lap, ashamed and embarrassed. Donna squeezed her hand.

"I feel like such a child." Jenny confessed.

Donna spoke gingerly, "That's because you are a child."

Jenny snatched her hand away, looking at Donna with a sudden fire, a fraction of the Doctor's Oncoming Storm. "I'm not a child!" she denied her youth much in the same way she denied it against her father.

Donna attempted to soothe the sore spot she'd just poked. "I meant that there is a lot you have left to learn, that's all. And I know for a fact that the Doctor, your father, would be more than honored to teach you everything he knows."

Jenny gave a questioning look. Donna supplied, "It's true!"

At her words, Jenny relaxed. Donna went on, "He's a wonderful man. You're lucky you have him."

Jenny didn't quite grasp Donna's message, so Donna put her hands around her empty mug, taking a breath before continuing, "My father, he passed away recently, and it's made me realize that no matter where I go in life, no matter what I'm faced with, I rely on the things my dad taught me. He was the first person I truly trusted and depended on. Whenever I needed anything, and I mean anything, he was there to give it, and he always did so in a way that was like magic to me. He was my hero. I won't go into detail about all the marvelous things there are that come with being a daughter and having a dad, you'll learn that on your own, but, be happy Jenny, and know that he loves you."

Jenny was enraptured by Donna's speech until the last three words, at which she scoffed.

Donna clicked her tongue. "You have to understand that to him, you're precious, and you always will be! You're so special that he would have a hard time defining your worth with words. He's got two big hearts, the great sap he is, and he loves you with all of them both. I've seen it myself. He'd never let anything happen to you. My point is, give him a chance to show you, and I promise, you won't be disappointed." Donna ends by patting Jenny's hand.

Jenny contemplates the truth in Donna's words. After a minute passed, Donna added cautiously, "I've been meaning to apologize."

"For what?"

"When I said you weren't real back on Messaline. I was being a numpty." She remarked.

"A numpty?"

Donna giggled, "Yeah, something I'm sure your father will demonstrate firsthand sooner or later."

Jenny grinned, but remained serious. "Thank you, Donna."

"Oh sweetheart, there's no need to thank me. Just don't go forgetting any of the things I said."

Jenny nodded and left the kitchen.

The Doctor entered from another door, and his appearance made Donna's stomach flip.

"Spaceman!" she cried in surprise. "How long were you standing out there?"

"Long enough, Donna." He was intentionally making it difficult for her to figure out his intentions.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to step in, I just wanted to make sure she was alright, that you two-"

The Doctor held up his hand, "I can't believe you're apologizing." He sat down across from her and took her hands, "Donna, what you just did was extremely kind. I've never had a friend who cared as much as you do." He said it in a way that suggested he was indeed deeply touched.

Donna cleared her throat, "There is one thing left I have to apologize for."

"What's that?"

"I pushed you into accepting Jenny, and all of the pain of your past that came with it. You know I didn't know about any of that, but, I still feel bad for it. I'm truly sorry, Doctor."

A few beats passed, before Donna quickly added, "And, I also understand if you want to send me home, spend time with Jenny and all that. I wouldn't be upset or anything, it's only right you two get to spend time bonding together. She needs it."

The Doctor rolled his eyes, groaning. "Now who's the numpty!?" His joyous, friendly tone lightened the mood. "You certainly are for thinking I'd send you home to Chiswick! Heavens, Donna. You're not going anywhere." He stood from the seat across from her and took her in a smothering hug.

"Come on," he says, pulling her to her feet, "let's give Jenny the grand tour."

A few hours later, though it could have been days according to Donna, since the Doctor wasn't kidding when he said 'grand tour,' Jenny had finally seen every part of the Tardis that mattered.

"I know the perfect way to end this day!" Donna declared, and two expectant faces peered at her, "99 Flakes all around!" she cheered.

Donna opened the doors of the Tardis and strode out into the sunlight. A moment later she popped her head round, "And yes, Doctor, you can have a banana 99…"

He shivered with delight. He ran after the redhead, shouting as he jogged down the ramp, "You're gonna love banana 99's, Jenny!"

He popped his head back around the door frame exactly as Donna had, "Donna's got the best ideas." He said giddily with a wink.

Jenny giggled and headed down the ramp to join them.


	7. Teamwork

**Teamwork**

The floor was littered - they'd shamelessly made a mess in their haste to get started.

They were intensely focused on the task in front of each other, yearning for a singular aim. Their foreheads were so close that at one moment they were nearly touching. They tried breathing deeply and evenly to quell the anxiety coursing recklessly through their veins.

As the minutes passed, the two worked together to satisfy their needs, moving as one to reach their identical goal. They moved things in certain ways, manipulated the right parts, and found themselves surprised to make a perfect fit. Donna sighed at this discovery, watching as this thing between them gradually transformed from a confused tizzy to a harmonious, undeniable unification; as if it was always meant to be this way.

Faces crinkled with the determined effort to make all the desired moves, and to do so continuously. Exhilaration and suspense heightened to new degrees with every movement. The Doctor controlled his hand delicately but surely, causing Donna to squirm. She said, "Yes, right there!"

It was her turn after him, and he instructed her eagerly, "A little to the left, brilliant!" he erupted.

When they were finished, sitting side by side and basking in the afterglow of their merged victory, they gazed at the masterpiece of their combined efforts – the 1,000 piece, holographic, 3-dimensional puzzle of the Medusa Cascade.


	8. Bad Things Come in Threes

**Bad Things Come in Threes**

_Sorry this took so long, but snow day for me means an update for you! So hooray for wintry weather! I had a hard time reaching a point to stop editing this one, especially the end. Though, I kind of believe there's never an end to editing._

* * *

She really wished the rain would stop pouring down on them. For the second time, she was soaked to the bone, so cold her teeth were beginning to chatter. She wasn't concerned about herself though, not in the least. There was a bleeding Time Lord collapsed on the ground, and she was hastily dragging him farther away from the small cottage they'd previously been taking shelter in.

That daft old peasant woman! Why did she do that? Why did she shoot the Doctor? With an arrow of all things. She and the Doctor had been lost for hours in that forest, trying to find the Tardis, when they'd found the village instead. They were both extremely grateful when she invited them in out of the stormy weather, the fire drying their clothes and chasing away the chill that seized them.

Then his sonic had bleeped from within his coat, and the lady went bonkers. The rest happened so fast, it was a blur to Donna: She'd been pushed to the ground by the Doctor, there was a loud yell of pain, and the sound of shuffling feet passing them on the ground, running out toward the center of town and shouting for help against the intruders.

The Doctor groaned as his body glides through mud and forest debris.

"I'm sorry, Doctor. I've got no choice. We've got to get you to the Tardis." Granted, Donna had no idea where the Tardis was, but she had to get them far away from the village. She imagined by now there would be a mob with pitchforks and torches searching for them with angry faces and dangerous intentions.

The rain wasn't stopping, not even slowing, so when she came upon a cave – a low cut-out section of rock, hidden by branches and large leaves – she didn't hesitate to get both her and the Doctor inside.

The unconscious Doctor lay before her, flat on his back and soaking the ground beneath him in a pool of both rain water and blood. She takes off her own sopping coat, tossing it to the side and ignoring the chill that ghosts over her skin. Donna takes a deep breath, then begins gingerly peeling away layers of his clothes. She has to get a look at the wound. The arrow in question pokes out from his flesh, bobbing rhythmically as he laboriously inhales and exhales. Donna knows she can't afford to waste any time being daunted by the weapon or what she would next have to do to both it and the alien it was lodged in, knowledge, which should be noted, was only available to her from what she had seen in a film.

She crouches down beside him, sitting herself on her ankles. She rolls his limp body on its side and braces him against her, wrapping her fingers around the arrow's shaft with one hand and keeping him steady with the other, "I'm so, so sorry." She apologizes, and pushes the arrow so that it pierces through the other side of him. She quickly snaps off the head and with some force, pulls the shaft back out in one swift motion.

The blood spurts and oozes with an angry vigor; she grabs her jacket and pushes down frantically on both the front and backside of his torso. He was coated in sticky red blood, glistening in the moonlight that beamed softly around the interior.

Her cosmos-traveling patient was beginning to stir, "Don't worry, Doctor. I'm doing the best I can. Almost done." He groans against the pressure. She lifts her coat to peek and is terrified to see the blood still rushing. She glances at his pale face before deciding upon her next move.

Stripping herself of her shirt and trousers, leaving her clad in a black camisole top and her knickers, she takes the much drier garments and presses them down on both puncture wounds.

"Donna…" he moans in suppressed agony.

She tries to disguise the hysteria in her voice when she replies in what she hopes is a soothing tone, "Shh, it's alright, Doctor. You're going to be okay."

He groans a bit louder, eyes clenched shut, teeth exposed in a grimace which she realizes is a muted scream. Her hands were still stationed firmly over the wounds. "Rest now. Please Doctor, you've got to keep still!" she said when he squirms - he tries leaning away from both her and the pain her hands were undoubtedly causing.

"Stop it now. You're going to make it worse! I mean it buster, no moving!" She raises the volume of her voice, trying to sound stern.

"Donna… Tardis…" he croaks, cracking open his watery eyes for the first time, wheezing for breath and looking at her pleadingly. Her heart shatters.

"After you've had a healing sleep, I promise we'll go to her." He settles at this, all of his energy depleted. She checks his blood flow, thanking every God she knows to find it stopped. "Don't move."

Pushing herself off her knees, she retrieves his brown coat and rams her hand down into the pocket. She flicks the sonic aside, slaps away what she is sure is a banana, her fingers groping, searching. She briefly wondered if his coat donated the inspiration for Mary Poppins' carpet bag. 'Daft Martian,' she chastises mentally.

"There you are." She pulls her arm out, shrugging the wet fabric off as the saturated item clings to her.

In her hand is a pouch the size of a mobile phone. She opens it, and a bit like a magician performing the never-ending scarf trick, teases out a blanket. She tucks it around the Doctor's frame, presses a kiss to his sweaty forehead, and watches him nervously for a few moments. Whether he is sleeping or resting with his eyes closed she can't be sure, but he's definitely breathing, and she is grateful for that.

She collects their wet clothes and lays them out on the level surface of the floor further back in the cave. She rubs her arms to generate warmth as the chill from before reminds her that it is still very present.

She crawls over to the Doctor, picking up a corner of the blanket and scooting herself underneath it. He's much too cold, she notices, and, careful as can be, sidles beside him, providing as much heat as her body would spare. It must have felt nice; the Doctor turned his head onto her shoulder. Still only in her cami, bra, and knickers, she appreciated that their platonic friendship allowed for situations like this. She knew there would be no shame or embarrassment for it later. At least she hoped the Doctor wouldn't mind, but even if she had misinterpreted the level of their relationship, she didn't give a flying fig – she wasn't going to let anything else happen to him, not under her watch.

Hours later, after battling against the persistent foe, it opts for a new tactic, this time caressing her gently, seeping in like a rolling fog, but she still resists the urge to sleep, ignoring the burning in her bloodshot eyes. She's petrified of leaving him if she lets her dreams take her away, but as she holds him, her body begins to melt, the darkness around her tempts, and the warmth spread around them like a hug was lures and encourages her to rest. She relaxes for a moment, and she is claimed.

It wasn't until the hoarse sound of her name infiltrated her slumber did she realize she had been sleeping at all. "Oh my god, I'm sorry." She apologized, looking down at the Doctor and internally cursing herself. "You should have woken me. How long have you been awake?"

"Not long." He attempted to sit up, and as he moved she was pleased to find more color in his cheeks, increased strength in his movements, and significantly less pain in his eyes. There was a brightness about him she hadn't seen since they'd left the Tardis yesterday.

He looked at her, hair disheveled and face, hands, and arms stained with his blood. "You alright?" he asks, sitting.

"Me!? Am I alright!?" she blanched, spluttering. "You're the one who got impaled last night, and you're asking me if I'm alright?" She sat up too, looking at him wide-eyed from the side, completely incredulous.

"Yeah Donna, I mean you do look rather like a zombie. Besides, that sleep did wonders! I hardly feel a thing." He declared, but he winced tremendously as he tried to stand, immediately returning himself next to Donna.

"Spaceman!" She cried, placing a hand gently on his chest. "Take is easy, for crying out loud."

He took a few measured but shaky breaths, before looking at Donna worriedly. "I can walk, I know I can, but you… you'll have to help me."

"Say no more." She said cheerfully. In the next instant, she shoved the blanket off and went towards the rear of the cave. By now the sun had risen, and rays of sunshine illuminated the cramped space.

"Uh… Donna…" The Doctor said in an amused tone, noticing her lack of attire.

"Don't. Just don't." she warned. "Foul-minded Martian," she mumbled grumpily under her breath, but the Doctor heard her, what with his superior hearing skills and all.

He grinned cheekily. "I quite like this new look, if I'm honest. Best outfit I've ever seen you wear."

"Oh you think so, do you?" She came over with their damp-but-not-dripping clothes, dumping them in a heap beside him and offering him a disapproving Donna Noble head tilt, "Give me a moment, you scoundrel."

He chuckled, helping her by holding up items of her clothing in succession. It didn't take her long to dress, and she helped him do the same, steering clear of the sensitive areas that were still recovering. When they were both ready, she hooked the Doctor's arm around her neck, and the two of them made their way into the open air together.

"How much farther?" Donna huffed after twenty minutes of hobbling along with the Time Lord. She shifted his arm to make his weight easier to support. In doing so, she noticed him gripping his front where the arrow had made contact, thinking it must be starting to irritate him.

The Doctor used the hand from his front to retrieve his sonic, "Oh…" He squinted at the screwdriver, "Ten minutes? Fifteen at this pace."

"You know Einstein, if you'd thought to use the sonic before, we wouldn't be in this mess." She looked at him, quirking an eyebrow.

"It's an adventure, Donna!" He whined exasperatedly. "To sonic would have been to cheat." He concluded.

She scoffed. "If this all turns out to be one scheming ploy to get me under the covers with you in nothing but my scanties I'll murder your skinny arse."

"Donna." He looked around, ears and eyes suddenly alert. Donna took no notice. She rambled on, "Then I'll take the Tardis and drive her back in time by five minutes so I can do it again! Paradoxes be damned!"

"Donna, hush!" He ordered. He stills, and though Donna glares at him for his commanding demand, they both stand fixed to the spot.

"Like hell I will! You did, didn't you? You plotted this whole thing! Bloody marvelous, you are. Was getting shot part of it? I bet it was, you smarmy git." She accuses.

"DONNA! Seriously," he whispers as she is finally silent, "don't you hear that?"

Donna focuses on the sounds around her. "Actually, yeah. I do hear something." She listens to it, a whirring; a humming ever so faintly increasing in volume. They simultaneously look behind them over their shoulders.

"Tell me I'm imagining that."

The Doctor just shakes his head, only able to utter one word: "Run!"

A cloud of black specks in the shape of a bulbous, bustling sphere hovers after them at an alarming speed, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of buzzing bees. The insects swarm them, the feeling of their fuzzy bodies and rapidly fluttering wings making Donna want to itch and swipe at every part of her body. She whips her head about as they maliciously fly around her eyes and nose. She blows air out of her mouth in fast bursts to keep them from landing on her lips. The Doctor is tugging on her wrist, the other hand of hers swatting bee bodies away.

Somehow they make it inside the Tardis, but a couple of determined bees make it in with them. They zip and zoom all around them, and Donna continues running around the console trying to put same space between her and the furious insect. "Doctor!" she shouts, as he catches one in a jar, the lid dotted with small holes. She shouts involuntarily when she feels her ear being invaded by the pest, jerking her head to get it out. It buzzes around her chin, in front of her chest, adamant on making contact.

He comes to her aid with another empty jar, moving his hands in matching time with the bee, closing the lid over the glass container with the tiny warrior trapped between the cover and the jar. "There, Donna. All gone."

He places the twin jars on the jump-seat, and collapses.

"Doctor, oh my god." Donna gasps. She sees that his wounds have taken up their old occupation of leaking blood, and she also sees the six red splotches rising on his arm where bees were able to sting him. She carries him to the medical bay with hardly any trouble, the slender, gangly strip of being he is, and lays him down on the empty bed.

"It's alright, Doctor. I know what to do." Donna repeats the same process as before, only now she is able to use proper gauze to interrupt the bleeding. Once the red streaks cease their quest to escape, she looks in cabinets and drawers for a specific bottle of pills.

Not finding them, she fetches the bottle from behind her own bathroom mirror, and retrieves the mortar and pestle from the kitchen. She tosses a few pills into the cement bowl and adds water, using the pestle to grind the ingredients into a paste. It was a handy little trick she'd learned from her mother on the four times she had been stung by a bee in her youth.

Once prepared, she brought the paste over to the Doctor. The Tardis shuddered and juddered beneath her, the walls vibrated violently. She could hear the insistent whirring of the time rotor, and the lights flickered. She left the med-bay and walked to the end of the corridor to see what the commotion was for, mortar and pestle in hand. It was mayhem – bells dinging, lights pulsing, her eyebrows shot toward the ceiling as a few columns of steam erupted from goodness knows where on the control panel. Donna muttered, "I don't know why now of all times you decide to throw a tantrum, but you're going to have to wait until the Doctor's taken care of first." She turned back down the hall toward the med-bay.

She smears the paste onto the swelling stings, but before she can finish the first application, the Doctor jerks awake.

"Donna!" He shouts, convulsing uncontrollably. Whatever sentence he tried to speak was too garbled for her to understand.

"Doctor, what's happening? Tell me what to do!" Donna shrieks.

He smacks the bowl out of her hand and it crashes to the floor, smashing in to several pieces. Suddenly he stopped moving altogether.

"Doctor?"

Nothing.

"Doctor!"

Silence.

Donna touched his neck, but there was no pulse. Her hands were on his chest, but there was no dual pounding beneath her palms. He was as lively as a loaf of bread. "Oh no, please don't." she put a hand over her mouth.

"Doctor, don't you dare!" she's already crying, the tears streaming down her face with abandon.

"I need you to show me the stars. You're the only best friend I've got. You're the only friend I've got period. Please don't leave me." She whispers the last part, collapsing against the bed and wondering why she couldn't get him better. She didn't understand.

"What do we do?" she wailed into the air of the sentient blue box.

Luckily, the Tardis had plans of her own. Donna didn't know what they were but she could feel the magnificent ship hurdling through time and space. Donna thought aloud, "I thought you couldn't pilot yourself."

By the sound of it, she wasn't supposed to. The journey had taken a lot out of the Old Girl. When they landed, the whole place echoed the waves of creaks and moans that emanated from the Tardis core. Donna stood and looked inquiringly at the ceiling, "Where are we?"

Before she could get an answer, her name was being called from outside. She could hear Captain Jack's muffled voice.

"Jack!" she bolted for the entrance. "Jack, help!" Her hands were on the door handles, and when she pulled them, she could see Jack rushing forward, thundering to a stop just before the threshold.

Upon nearly colliding with her, he noticed her distraught demeanor and asked, "What's wrong? Why are you here?"

"It's the Doctor, I think he's dead."

Jack rushed after the redhead, following Donna hurriedly to the medical bay.

Jack looked at the bee sting with the white slime covering it, rubbing some of it tentatively between his thumb and index finger. "What is this, Donna?" he questioned dubiously.

"Aspirin paste." She replied nonchalantly.

"Donna." He growled, taking off down the hall.

Donna ran after him, the sound of their shoes thumping along the grating. "What, Jack? Tell me, what does aspirin paste have to do with any of this?"

Jack responded without stopping, "He's allergic to aspirin!" He headed out the doors of the blue box and towards the entrance to Torchwood.

Donna stopped in her tracks. She's poisoned the Doctor! A pit planted itself in her belly and guilt coiled around her chest and head. She thought she'd faint. Instead, she swallowed her fret and headed after Jack who was already out of sight.

Down in the lab, Jack retrieves two bottles of purple liquid, and two syringes. Not even bothering to close the glass door of the cabinet he found them in, he races back to the Tardis, Donna never far behind. On the Tardis, he administers the medicine and releases a sigh of relief.

"Aspirin puts him in a coma." He explained to Donna, who was biting her nails, not bothering any more to wipe away the tears. Jack caught one on his finger. "Don't worry Donna, he'll be alright. You didn't know." He takes her in a consoling hug. She doesn't seem placated by his soft words or his kind embrace. "It'll take a lot more than poison to get rid of him." He gives her a sturdy pat on the back, sending her forward by a step.

As he heads out, he adds, "Besides, Martha did the same thing once. Who do you think developed the antidote?" he gave her a wink, then disappeared.

While the Doctor recuperates, Donna realizes what the old girl had been making such a fuss about. "Next time, don't hesitate to knock me out. Seriously, I mean it." Donna turned her gaze upward. "Squash me with a rafter, zap me with your wires, just do something, please don't ever let me hurt him like this again. Oi, you hear me?" The Tardis gives her the equivalent of a 'Yes, ma'am' even though she would never intentionally harm her Donna.

Despite Donna's frustration with herself and the guilt that plagued her, she lovingly pets the wall, leaning the side of her face against the smoothest expanse of coral column she can find, closing her eyes and listening to the lullaby the Tardis was humming to her. It was like having someone rub circles on your back after a hard day at work.

She goes to the med-bay and sits in a chair beside the bed the Doctor rests in. She tenderly grabs onto his hand. "I still can't believe I did that, I nearly killed you." She puts her head down into her other palm, rubbing her sodden eyes. "Oh, Spaceman."

The Doctor grumbles, "At least you didn't feed me pears."

Donna snaps her head towards him, but doesn't have the chance to say anything before he goes on talking.

"First you yank an arrow out of my body," he gestures the action as if she could have forgotten, "then we get chased by bees, and then you try to poison me?" He chuckles, and is goodhearted as he speaks, trying to ease the hurt that tries to boil up inside Donna and spill out through her eyes. "Here I am though, thanks to you – 80% better and no pears in sight. Boy, do I know how to pick 'em."

"Wait, what?" she manages.

He pats her hand which is still on his, budging over so she can sit next to him. She obliges, reluctantly.

"Of all the people who could have been my best mate, I chose a true winner. You are absolutely brilliant… and maddening, but I mostly mean brilliant. Not joking, Donna." He points at her when she rolls her eyes. "Anyone would find it impossible facing all the things we faced today, if they dared to try and top you." Donna permitted a bashful grin to tug the corners of her mouth.

He grins genuinely at her, speaking sincerely, "Thank you."

Her 'You're welcome' came in the form of a hand squeeze. She took on a thoughtful expression, "So, near death experiences are a good thing?"

He held her hand tighter, reaching up to dry the last of her tears, "With you, I could die one hundred times and be glad I lived at all."


	9. Then and Now

**Then and Now**

Then, there had been her absolutely scrumptious cottage pie by the blazing fire, now there was cold soup he hadn't touched in hours, and a fire that put as much warmth in him as an evening in January.

Back then, there had been telling each other stories, now there was no one to listen.

Then, there had been a hand around his, firm and warm, now there was air between his fingers.

Then, there had been someone worth showing the stars to, now there were eager humans who'd never understand it all no matter how many adventures they went on.

For him, it was as fresh as the morning. For her, it had been years. He observes from a distance for the sixteenth time that month, as her form moves about behind the curtains of the floor-to-ceiling windows of the modestly luxurious home. The sonic supplied the audio - she was talking to herself, getting ready to do a bit of shopping.

He was callous and cruel for hoping she wasn't happy, because if she weren't, doing what he was about to do would feel less horrible. It would be the second precious thing he would steal from her, the second life (third, if you counted the incident at the Library) he would be responsible for ruining.

She had children, a husband, and was well taken care of in the financial department. Nothing bothered her besides wishing there was more money she could donate to charities, or another cause to work up funds for. The town and country love her. He has seen the wall lined with newspaper and magazine cutouts with her picture and name, with a title referring to one of many instances of her good deeds. She doesn't even have nightmares, not like he does anyway. There's nothing he can focus on that could serve as the reason for liberating her, but he's a selfish wreck when it comes to her, and he knows he's going to do it anyway.

She retrieves the newspaper from the lawn, keys in hand, bag hung on her forearm, scanning the headlines before chucking it onto the table just within the front door. He thinks he sees a faint something in her eyes, but he chalks it up to his own hungry imagination. He straightens his bowtie, and runs a hand through his lopsided hair.

Pulling the sapphire blue door closed, she locks it and heads to her car. Soon, she is driving off, and he is left to contemplate. All the things he didn't have since she was gone – he didn't have Donna to chase his nightmares away, and even though the Old Girl tries to monitor his dreams, he still wakes up crying every night, choking on sobs. Donna isn't there to comfort him, to soothe his heartaches and make the demons that haunt him and prance around in his brain vaporize instantaneously just from her presence alone. No one was there to encourage him in a way that was so very Donna: boisterous, loving, modest, physically assaulting, deeply compassionate.

Amy wasn't like that, Clara wasn't like that, and River was always missing-in-action. It wasn't entirely their faults though, he knew that. Donna took up all of his hearts and there wasn't room for anyone else. He wanted to hear her say, 'Come here, Sweetheart' and then take him in a hug, he wanted to listen to her breaths at night as she slept soundly, he wanted to hear the growl in her voice when she scolded him for doing something so entirely daft and mad, he wanted to hold her hand. There wasn't anyone in the universe that made him feel the way she did. He was miserable without her, and if he could curl up and die, he would.

She returns 42 minutes later, slowing the car down along the lighted driveway and parking at the door. The car door opens, and she emerges, walking to the passenger door. She scoops two brown bags into her arms, shutting the door with her foot.

He stalks toward her on stork-like legs, lace-up boots thumping lightly against the pavement. She notices his approach, the near ravenous but culpable look in his eyes, and he stops. She lowers the bags to the floor beside her legs and backs up around the bonnet, stepping backward toward the front door, fiddling for her keys. He continues his trajectory, picking up the pace and elongating the strides of his gait. She's frightened, and as she turns to make a run for it, he is already on her, his hands coming up to her temples from behind. Her keys clatter to the floor and she gasps, body twitching vaguely as the memories are returned without the accompanying Time Lord DNA. She turns around, taking in his face and noticing the new features.

"Oh…" she gasps, realizing why he's come at all. He expects her to _choose_.

She thinks of the running, the wonders, the stars and the planets and the new experiences, but she thinks of the aches beginning to creep into her bones at the mornings and evenings, the peace that comes with looking at her almost-grown children, how proud she is of them, and then the love her husband has for her – can she leave that for her best friend, for the man who both rescued her and silenced her like a flame extinguished by fingertips?

Emma's show opens on Friday night, and her oldest son John has a job interview for a lofty position. Shaun depends on her, her family depends on her. She's a mother and a wife and an overall person who matters. She saved the universe once, but that was a lifetime ago. She had a new life now.

The Doctor reads her face like a book and can tell she won't be going anywhere any time soon. Still, he was glad to have done it, to give her back what he'd taken, to make her whole again. He places his hand at the back of her head and tilts it forward so he may press a kiss to her forehead. He gives her a weak smile, and turns away, walking briskly to the Tardis before the tears can fall.

One foot is in the Tardis when he hears, "Wait! Spaceman!" The sound of her voice calling him by that name sends a jolt up his spine.

She turns away after garnering his attention, digging in her purse for a bit of paper and a pen, scribbling a note on it and sticking it in the mail slot. She runs up to him, not quite smiling but not quite sad either. Obviously she hadn't been doing much running, she was slightly out of breath when she stopped an inch in front of him. She was beaming now. He looked down at her, his eyes full of hope, twinkling with a joy on the brink of exploding.

"I've got enough in me for a quick spin. Besides, you owe me a trip to Felspoon."

* * *

_No disrespect to Amy, Rory, Clara, River or anyone else. This chapter might make it seem like they weren't good for anything (in the mind of the brooding Doctor I've molded), but I'll be sure to emphasize that I enjoyed their episodes as much as the next Whovian. No one beats Donna, but in their own ways, the companions to follow were amazing beyond what I could have imagined. _


	10. Dinner and a Show

**Dinner and a Show**

"I'm sorry Donna, I don't know what else to say." He strolled along with her, his arm entwined around Donna's. He wore a tuxedo while she wore an elegant evening dress, a shawl draped around her shoulders.

"Don't worry Doctor, at least we got to the tables. The centerpiece was truly lovely." Donna spoke with the genuine intention of making him feel better. The fact that the display was gorgeous was just an added bonus.

The Doctor had plans to take Donna for the classic dinner and a show, but the kitchen of the restaurant flooded, which caused a power shortage, and the extravagant eatery was forced to cancel its services. He was kicking himself for not having a backup plan. The restaurant in question was of a fabulous venue, one that you needed reservations for months in advance. He thought it would be fun to do; dine on a brand new alien planet with a best friend, bear witness to some kind of marvelous performance, with alien cuisine unfamiliar to them both.

They get to the Tardis, the soft blue glow of alien moonlight complemented the darker blue shades of the Tardis, causing her to shimmer in an ethereal haze.

They step inside, and the lights are dim. The Doctor flips the switch but the illumination remains at its minimal setting. He tries to sonic the lights, pointing his screwdriver up like he was making an offering to a sky God, but the lighting still stays low. "Hang on a tick, I'll see what's wrong." The Doctor heads to a box inside the wall and begins to tinker with fuses and wires. Donna takes off her shawl and lets it rest on the railing, not wasting another moment before then popping off her heels and standing barefoot on the grating. She sighs with immense relief. Her tummy rumbles, so she heads to the kitchen to see what she can throw together for her and the Doctor, leaving the Lord of Time to make his mechanical adjustments.

She passes the doorway to the dining room and continues to the kitchen, but a glimmer of light catches in her peripheral vision, and she steps back. She turns to the dining room.

"Doctor!" she yells. "Doctor, you'd better come see this!"

She can hear loud banging and sounds of sparks fizzing and bursting, maybe even a few hushed curses. "Doctor, leave her alone and come now!"

The ruckus ceases and the Doctor runs up to her, "What is it, what's wrong?" She isn't looking at him, instead her attention faces the dining room, to which he then turns his own head.

"Sweet mother of Daleks." He gasps.

The dining room walls were laced with vertical strings of blue fairy lights, hung along the walls like stripes, casting an azure glow over the room that sent a soft and peaceful mood cascading over the atmosphere. A table sat in the middle, which was notable because it was a smaller table than what was normally in the dining room - it was a table for two, flanked on opposite sides by two wooden chairs. The table was covered in a baby blue tablecloth, two glass candle holders in the middle, containing votive candles resting on cream-colored sand, and an unopened bottle of wine. Covered plates of dinner awaited each of the two astonished guests.

"Did she do all this?" Donna asked, breathless.

"I think so." He turned his eyes toward the ceiling. "Did you, Old Girl?" he asked aloud, and the blue lights twinkled.

"Why? Do you think she knew about our spoiled plans?" Donna questioned.

"She must have… Oh, you adorable thing, you." He hugged the nearest wall.

"That's so thoughtful." Donna sniffled.

"Oi, Donna, you alright there?" He noticed the moisture beneath her eyes.

"Course Spaceman." She wiped away a single tear. The Doctor put an arm around her once his initial concern melted into understanding. Donna grinned at his kind gesture. "You are one special alien to have a home that looks after you so well. She really is something." Donna gave his chest a couple of pats.

"She looks after you too, you know." He squeezed her closer to him.

"Yeah, I suppose she does. Come on, let's get some grub, shall we?" He nodded, and led them to the table.

Dinner was about finished, plates almost cleaned, wine bottle emptied. The Tardis was humming to her beloved passengers.

Donna raised her glass, grinning, "My compliments to the chef."

"Here, here." The Doctor agreed, raising his glass also, adding a hiccup.

"Does this wine taste alright to you?" Donna asked after taking a sip. The Tardis abruptly stopped humming.

The Doctor took another sip, moving his tongue around his palate inquisitively. He shrugged. "Tastes fine to me." The Tardis continued, and neither of them noticed her interrupted song.

"You know Donna," he started after draining his wine, "We've had a fantastic dinner, really dined in style, but I'm afraid I still owe you a show."

"We've got time." She sipped from her glass.

"I could give you one now." He offered suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Spaceman... that wine, did it honestly go to your head that fast? I don't want any kind of show you put on, not even a puppet show."

"Oh stop Donna, not any sort of show like that!" he clarified. "Watch this."

He reached for the pitcher of ice water and poured it into his glass, stopping the ice cubes from spilling over with his spoon. He dipped his finger into the cold liquid and slid his finger smoothly around the rim of his glass.

"That's a show?" Donna asked, unimpressed.

"Wait." he instructed. The Doctor was enthralled by the noises from the glass, the high-pitched tone giving him shivers. He reached out for Donna's glass of water. She'd hardly had any water during dinner, so the glass was rather full. He placed it next to his own glass and began creating the simultaneous symphony.

Donna stared, still unimpressed.

"I've got a show of my own." Donna muttered to herself. She picked up her spoon while the Doctor was lost in his trance, and placed a small bit of uneaten mashed potatoes on the tip of it. She catapulted it at the Doctor's face. He stopped running his fingers around the edges in an instant, eyes snapping open and glaring directly at her.

"You're going to regret that, Earthgirl." His voice was low and attempting threatening.

"Oh, am I?" she dared, nowhere near fazed.

His hand roved over his plate, collecting a hodge-podge of scraps. As he stood from his chair, she gulped, "You wouldn't."

He stood before her, she still sat in her seat, though she significantly leaned away from him. He looked at her, his eyes narrowing, a smug grin on his mouth. "I would." he declared, shoving his hand into her face, and though she turned her head, it didn't help much as the mess ended up in her hair as well.

She wiped the slop from her face, keeping it in hand, "So would I!"

The Doctor's face was then mounded with the same funky collection of food items. He licked his lips, tiling his head in acceptance of the peculiar combined tastes. He reached out his finger to take a bit of something from her nose, licking his finger clean with a childish smile. She slapped him playfully, and he giggled. Donna gingerly shoved him away and took up their two plates, bringing them into the kitchen. The Doctor joined her, picking up the glasses after he dunked the silverware into them. The Tardis had filled the sink with soapy water by the time they entered the kitchen, so Donna slid them in, and they disappeared under the white suds.

The Doctor scuppered the glasses carefully into the abyss of the sink, and waltzed over to the fridge. "Do we have any banoffee pie left?" He inquired, peering in at the items on the shelves.

"You're kidding. You can't still be hungry." Donna balked.

"Well..." He said, reaching in and retrieving his dessert. He cut himself a slice and ate his piece right out of the tin, not bothering with a separate plate. His face was beginning to crackle in spots as he chewed, still encased in dinner. Donna's face too, on her cheek and on her chin, was starting to look as though she'd worn a face mask for entirely too long.

The Doctor moaned with delight as he shoveled another forkful of deliciousness into his mouth. "Donna, this is so good." She was rather enjoying watching him. He looked at her, "You want some?"

"No, you're enjoying it enough for the two of us." She said with a chuckle. She was reaching for the kettle next, while the Doctor moved his tongue around in his mouth, looking down at the pie tin and then at Donna with a contemplative expression. "You really should have some, it's too good not to have."

"I'm nowhere near hungry. I've got just enough room left for a lovely spot of tea." she said, placing the now filled kettle on the stove.

"Donna," he said, "hasn't anyone told you?" She looked up at him to see a small amount of the whipped topping balancing on the end of his fork. He slid the plate across the counter towards her. She looked at it, and when she looked back up at him, he launched his bit of cream towards her, shouting, "There's always room for dessert!"

She didn't go for the proffered pie as her ammo, she instead raced around the kitchen island, squealing, as the Doctor used more whipped cream to assault her with (he deliberately refused to disturb the banana, toffee, and crust, skimming the whipped cream off with his utensil). Donna dove her hand into the flour jar and flung massive handfuls toward him. He twisted his body down and sideways to avoid the white powder, but it was no use. She gave a shout as he took another shot at her. He gave an excited whoop as a glob landed right across her mouth, sharply cutting off her voice, "I'll need to remember this tactic, it's so much better than having to say you're from Barcelona. I think I'll have to carry around a bit of whipped cream everywhere we go!" He was doubling over with laughter.

She slid her tongue around the outside of her mouth, looking cross-eyed at the dot of white on her nose that her tongue definitely couldn't claim, sending the Doctor into another fit. She took the kitchen towel and whipped him with it to get him to stop taking so much pleasure at her expense, and he riled her by laughing even more when a puff of flour exploded into the air as the towel collided with his shirt. She was attempting to repress the laughs from erupting, but her lips gave way like a damn and out came the hysterical laughs the Doctor loved to hear.

Eventually she sighed, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes, bringing the kitchen atmosphere to a messy silence. "Let's hug it out, shall we?" She clapped her hands together to get the excess flour off, and the Doctor put the pie on the counter, beaming as they wrapped their arms around each other, purposefully sharing their filth. When they parted, they looked at how equally they were covered in whipped cream and flour. They, of course, burst out laughing a moment later. They were both going to need showers...

It was a successful night all in all: the Doctor and Donna got their dinner (and certainly dessert), but the Tardis got the show, and she was all too pleased to have a front-row seat.


	11. The Forgotten Love Letter

**The Forgotten Love Letter **

_Might be a bit out-of-character with the list-making, but I was trying to go for classic I think? When really I think this approach accidentally might seem high school-ish. If the letter comes across that way, I apologize. The Doctor has childish moments, but we all know how deeply he is able to feel. _

* * *

His bushy gray eyebrows knit together when the tri-folded paper falls at his feet. The book in his hand is slid back onto the shelf as his eyes recognize the paper on the floor. He bends to retrieve it. He's forgotten about it of course, it was an item written by his tenth regeneration, and on that one night, when she had come into the library, nearly catching him in the act of reading it over, he'd hastily closed it within the book it had fluttered out of moments ago.

Picking it up delicately, he runs his wrinkled fingers over the smooth surface. He sits himself down in the nearest armchair and unfolds the letter. He reads it.

_My Dearest Donna,_

_You'd think being a Time Lord would have enabled me to foresee how much having you in my life would change things from here on out. But then, what am I a Lord of anyway besides a sphere of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff, every bit as unpredictable as you when you haven't had enough sleep. Please understand, I adore you at all times of day. I'll make a list because if I know you, you won't believe me unless I do:_

_I adore your smile when you say good morning and hand me a cuppa._

_I adore your habits, even the one where you line up your chips before eating them. And you say I'm the silly one... _

_Your ginger hair. I both adore and envy it. Seriously, you don't know how much._

_I adore your eyes, especially the way they sparkled on Moonlight Planet 545._

_I love how it takes just one look at me for you to know that something's not right. And I am mystified by your uncanny ability to know just what to do to fix it, every single time. _

_I admire how well you try to sometimes hide that softer side of you, the one you cover up with brassiness and shouting. _

_You have an incredible capacity for kindness, one that grips my hearts every time I see it surface. _

_I mean this next bit from the center of my very soul: yours is the best banana pudding in the galaxy, I have never had better in my life. Don't tell the Old Girl, though. This one's our secret. _

_I adore that at a time when I thought I knew all there was to know, you showed me a whole new world to explore._

_I adore that even in your bathrobe when you haven't even showered yet, hair untamed and motions still drowsy with lingering sleep, you still somehow look stunning._

_I love having your hand in mine - we're a perfect fit._

_I adore how you look in the evening, curled up in the armchair across from me, reading Agatha Christie, periodically gasping when you come across a striking revelation. _

_I love hearing you you tell me on tormenting nights that you'll never leave._

_I stopped there because if I don't, I'll have the size of a novel to give you instead of a letter, which according to tradition and common knowledge, is a form of communication typically no more than a page or two of hand-written words._

_I risk myself, to be open with you about the way I feel, but I do not think I am a fool to go ahead and admit to seeing those same feelings reflected at me in your own eyes. Besides, without a sacrifice, you cannot know if something is worth it, and you Donna Noble, are so worth the risk. I have known no greater home than when I am in your arms. Within them, I find such tenderness, acceptance, and freedom to just be comforted and cared for. I would do anything to be in them forever._

_You don't even know, do you? You don't realize how brilliant you are, even though I tell you at every chance. You amaze me, and surprise me, and your presence alone is enough to make me feel like every worry in the world has vanished. You've changed me in more ways than I can count, and all for the better. Like a long awaited rain washing over dry lands, that's your effect on me – I was a terribly lonely man, with no hope of ever feeling normal, then you came along and washed away all the sadness and pain I ever harbored. I don't yet know everything about your childhood, your upbringing, or what in your past has made you believe certain things about yourself as stubbornly as you do, but I do know that in all this time that you have felt unworthy, plain, 'not special,' you have been the complete opposite to me, and everyone we have helped so far on our journeys. It's true, there are times you drive me out of my head, but now that I think about it, the time I spend going crazy must be a fraction of the daft states of mind I put you through. _

_In my days spent reading Shakespeare sonnets in the library, I can report firsthand that all the ones on love are not without truth. Sonnet 91, Sonnet 18, Sonnet 116, and others I hope to share with you in time, are all wonderful and incredible. They were before, but now that I read them with you in mind - my Earthgirl - they are entirely new and infinitely more astounding. You are everything to me, Donna. You're beautiful, and I don't ever want to be away from you. I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, to keep you happy. Since you've been around, it's all I care about. __Basically, what you need to understand while reading this, is that I love you, I always have. And if you need me to convince you should this letter fail, I could do it in two heartbeats. _

_I hope if I am wrong, and that if you do not love me, that our friendship will be strong enough to overcome my blunder. Please, do not ask to go home if I have made a horrible error in judgment, for if you leave me I just know it would kill me_. _After all, there are still so many places I wish to take you - so many more adventures await if you stay. Please Donna, just think things through, and know that whenever you are ready to take my hand, I'll be there to hold it._

_Forever yours and with all my love,_

_The Doctor _


	12. Happy Birthday

**Happy Birthday**

Jack, the Doctor, Donna, and Martha were heading down to the beaches of planet PMX Zoris to celebrate Donna's birthday. The sun was shining, the sand was warm and soft, a kind of bird relatively similar to seagulls flew across the blue sky, cawing and casting its shadow on the ground below. Ships were sailing, the waves crashed upon the shoreline, and people were doing all the normal beach activities one would expect - tossing around beach balls, flying kites, lounging out on towels or beach chairs, children building sand castles, surfers with their surfboards, one couple reading books under an enormous umbrella. It was the scene Donna had been craving to be a part of for so long. She lifted her sunglasses to the top of her head, sweeping back some of her red hair, taking in the picture before her with a deep, satisfied breath. It might not have looked exactly like a beach, what with the blue sand and purple water, but it would do.

Even though today was Donna's special day, she was sure to lay the ground rules as they walked toward an open spot, beach totes in hand, "I don't want any fuss, let's just have a good time together, got it? Let's have fun, that's all. _No birthday shenanigans_." she turned to the Doctor, pointing at him with especially raised eyebrows, "I mean it, you."

"Alright, alright," he assured, a little too eagerly for Donna's liking, as everyone lowered their totes to the sand, Jack and Martha starting to unfold the giant beach blanket, "we'll just have a plain old day of fun."

Donna crossed her arms and pursed her lips. Jack was waiting for her toes to start tapping. The Doctor sighed, a symbol of his giving in. "I promise, Donna." At that, he leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss, she seemed appeased. The Doctor was clever, though - it was only Jack and Martha who noticed his crossed fingers behind his back.

They started by burying the all-to-willing Captain Jack in the turquoise sand: "I've been restrained lots of ways before, believe me... but this is a first. Buried by a couple of smokin' hot beach babes and a gorgeous hunk of handsome." Jack looked up at the ginger packing the sand down near where his shoulder ought to be. "Are you sure it's not my birthday, Donna?"

Donna pats him on the cheek, "It is if you want it to be, sunshine."

The trio leave Jack enveloped by the grains of sand, heading for the lilac colored waters. They watch, giggling, as he struggles against the weight of it all, but eventually he frees himself and joins them, running through the water with incredible enthusiasm and splashing everyone.

They have a swim race to a nearby platform, upon which Martha and Donna sun themselves. Lucky for them, the area was not heavily populated with other beach-goers, so the girls let the sun bake their skin with no worries about who might be spying.

As they continue soaking up the sun, heat beating down on their flesh, the Doctor and Jack fetch them all pina coladas from the floating bar.

There were bonuses to the beach on PMX Zoris that Donna was fond of, and she genuinely hoped they'd make another visit in the future. She thought about the perks she'd encountered while she rested with her eyes closed beside Martha: there weren't a lot of people (or aliens for that matter), sunscreen wasn't necessary for whatever scientific reason the Doctor had gone on about, the shells didn't shatter when you stepped on them, the sand didn't stick to your skin, the water wasn't dreadfully salty, there had been little to remind her that today she turns another year older, and ice cream was free on Tuesdays! What more could she ask for?

They'd made the most of their time in the water before the sun went down - they played that wonderful game of sitting atop shoulders and pushing each other down to the water, they'd snorkeled, they'd yelled at Jack each time he wolf-whistled before dunking under the water, leaving the three of them to face the glare or appreciative smile that followed, and they'd laughed at Martha when Jack had swam up behind her, scaring her out of her skin. Donna wasn't laughing however, when the Doctor did the same to her. She properly splashed him, before he came over and scooped her into his arms, one arm around her back, the other under her legs, taking a brief moment to feast his eyes on her before walking deeper into torso-deep water. She was kicking and screaming with laughter before he tossed her into the ocean. He ran like mad when she swam after him, but it was no use - her arms were around his waist and he was caught. She'd swept up a handful of seaweed and dumped it on his head, the long wavy strands of green leaves made it look very much like a wig. She and Martha laughed hysterically at the Doctor's unamused expression. Jack was taking a picture with his water-proof mobile.

In the evening, when the setting sun cast emerald and chartreuse streaks across the darkening sapphire sky, they built a bonfire. They sat on logs, four of them, surrounding the orange blaze. Jack, Donna, and the Doctor indulged in a local brew, while Martha chose a bottle of mineral water. They were chatting about their favorite adventures, and joked about all the ones to come. Donna quietly kicked off her flip flops and dug her painted toes into the sand, relishing in the fact that she was finally on a beach, surrounded by her two best friends and boyfriend. She put her beer bottle beside the log, and leaned back on the wood with her palms, gazing up like Martha was at the masterpiece of color the sky had become.

The Doctor stood and stretched, giving a contented groan as a few pops from his back could be heard. He strode over to Donna's log and helped himself to sit beside her. He took a moment to look in her eyes, grinning, then reaching into his pocket, revealed to her a closed fist.

"Doctor, I said no presents! No fussing, remember? You promised." She frowned.

"You never said anything about not giving presents, isn't that right, Jack and Martha?" He turned to the peanut gallery.

"Absolutely." and "Right-o." were there replies. Donna rolled her eyes.

The Doctor turned back to Donna, telling her to close her eyes, his breath ghosting over her lips. It was a small log, after all.

She closes her eyes and he opens his palm. He clears his throat to let her know she can look, and when she gazes down, she sees two shells in his palm.

"They're earrings! Oh, how lovely." she realizes. She picks them up and gives them a closer look. Two scalloped shells, one to each hook. They aren't plain, but instead their color is a marbled blend of cream and violet – the fact that the colors aren't painted, but within the shells themselves, makes them seem authentic and classy. A purple jewel and a white pearl joined at the top of each shell makes the accessories sparkle, adding a feather-light touch of glamour that Donna adores.

"They're a popular thing on this planet, they're called mollusk exoskeleton ornaments." The Doctor supplies.

She giggles, "Let's call them seashell earrings, yeah?" She holds them in her hand while she takes off the gold hoop earrings she's already wearing, pocketing them, and putting on the shells. "How do they look?" she asks the Doctor, turning her gaze to Jack and Martha.

Martha gets up and walks over, holding one of them with a gentle touch, "They're amazing, Donna. Might have to get a pair myself! They really are stunning." She smiles.

She turns to the Doctor. "Well?"

"They're gorgeous, not as gorgeous as you, but they'll do."

Donna laughed slightly, giving him a chaste kiss, "Thank you, Martian."

"Love you, Earthgirl." Says the Doctor, putting his arm around her as she leans against him.

A shout from the water gains their attention. "Hello, fine foreigners!" calls a fisherman. The Doctor and Jack wave.

"Do we know them?" asks Martha.

"Well," Jack starts, "we do." Motioning between himself and the Doctor.

A pit suddenly forms in Donna's stomach. "Doctor, what did you do? I said _no fuss_! What part of 'no fuss' didn't you understand? I swear, that Time Lord mega-brain of yours gets smaller every day."

"Hush Donna, look." He steers her attention back to the two groups of local sailors. Each group floats atop a raft the size of a door, paddling their way out a bit from the shore, and in opposite directions from each other. One man from each raft held onto a long pole, each of the two poles connected to a side of netting. The netting grows taught the further from each other the rafts go; it acts as the link between them, only allowing the rafts to be as apart from each other as the length of the net will allow. To Donna, the net looks similar to one used for Volleyball matches.

"You great bleedin' pillock, what did you do?" she mutters, watching the fishermen.

"Just watch, Donna." he encourages, his eyes focused on her instead of the activity on the water.

They lower the material into the dark purple waves. After a minute or so, they hoist the net out of the water, letting out joyful whoops, holding the poles upright like flagpoles. The Doctor watched Donna's face light up. Martha gasped. Jack exchanged a smug, knowing expression, proud of their collaboration - they had bribed the locals while they were off getting the drinks earlier in the day.

Little sea creatures, slimy little things like slugs or prawns, clung to the fabric. Donna couldn't fathom how, but they were arranged so that the message in bright letters read, 'Happy Birthday, Donna!'

"But how…" Donna stammered.

"They're bioluminescent." The Doctor provided.

"Yes but how…" She motioned with her finger at all the letters.

"Little bits of food attracted them, and the food was only put in places so letters could be formed, it's very clever. Whoever thought of it, well, they deserve a medal or... something." He answered suggestively.

She turned her head to him against his chest, still leaning on him. "That they do." She grinned up at him. He picked up her hand and kissed her fingers. She twisted in his arm and placed her hand at the back of his neck, pulling him closer to her body and snogging him thoroughly to show just how appreciative she was. The villagers from out on sea raved and whistled as the two lovers locked lips.

"Can I get in on that?" Jack asked, earning him a swat from Martha. "Well I did help!"

"Not a chance, Harkness." The Doctor answered between colliding with Donna's lips. He separates, gazing down at Donna's eyes reflecting the starlight above them, the flicker of amber light dancing on her cheek and hair, "She's mine." he said, going in for another fabulous Donna Noble kiss. She grinned against his mouth, happy to be his.

"Definitely can't argue with that." Jack held up his beer to his two snogging friends, and Martha did the same. They clinked their bottles together before taking a swig while the fire before them crackled through the rest of the night.

* * *

_Gee, I wonder if that crackling fire was actually in reference to the bonfire... guess I'll leave that up to you, dear readers ;)_


	13. Call of the Wild

**Call of the Wild**

They'd been lost for hours now, but the Doctor knew that when they were ready to head back, his sonic would lead the way. Today was a day for aimless wandering. It was one of the Doctor's favorite things to do, explore the unknown, and even more so when he had a companion to do it with.

He and Donna stepped over curvy, jagged tree roots and ducked away from dangling vines. It was warm and the air was thick and moist, like that of a rain forest. There were typical animal noises surrounding them, the buzzing of insects (which bothered Donna, but the Doctor insisted on trudging through the great outdoors regardless) and every now and then Donna would think she spotted a monkey in the trees, but then she remembered this wasn't Earth, and whatever was lurking in the treetops above was most likely not a monkey.

The Doctor assured her they were safe, though. Needless to say, she kept her eyes peeled. She stopped to look up at the sky, a muddled view of it anyway, as large green leaves crowded inwards, thankfully blocking out the hot rays of sunlight.

"Donna, come see!" shouted the Doctor, interrupting her observations of the local vegetation.

Donna made her way over to him, and when she saw where he was standing, rocking on his heels nonchalantly, her heart immediately dropped to her stomach. "Doctor, get away from there, you nutter!"

He was stood on the very edge of a maroon colored cliff, hands in his pockets. He turned around and grinned at her, "It's perfectly safe, I promise – well, so long as I don't fall that is."

"Doctor, if you fall-" She held both her hands to the side of her, not wanting to bear the thought.

"I won't, Donna." He removed his hands from his pockets and lowered himself down, patting the spot next to him. Donna shook her head, "No thanks Spaceman, I like the view from here just fine."

"Come on Donna, if you don't come closer you can't do this!" He cupped his hands around his mouth, forming a make-shift megaphone, and shouted into the magnificent expanse beyond him, "Hello, out there! My name is the Doctor, and Donna here is a worry wart!" his voice boomed over the landscape, echoing at least 4 rounds.

He smiled broadly when he turned to gauge her reaction. "I am not!" she cried defiantly, and walked closer to him to prove it. From a few feet away, she got down on her hands and knees and chose to crawl the rest of the way, just to be safe. She swung her legs out from under her and let them dangle over the edge, just like the Doctor. She took in the landscape properly, and she was rendered speechless by it. There were burgundy mountains in the distance, a light orange sky, green and blue grasses, and silver water. The clouds were scattered variations of pinks and reds.

The Doctor smiled as he watched her astonished expression. "See? Everything's fine. Nothing to worry about." The Doctor spoke warmly, gazing back out at the view. He put his hands around his mouth again, and Donna was forced to cover her ears at the outrageous volume of his voice. "The square root of 897 is 29.9499582-" She swung her hand against his middle, and he stopped reciting the numbers for the entire planet to hear.

"Blimey." she breathed, looking out at the horizon as his echoes faded.

"Go on, Donna. You try!" He elbowed her softly in the ribs, looking at her so brightly that she couldn't deny him. Donna cleared her throat enthusiastically, mimicking the Doctor by putting her hands on the sides of her mouth, calling out, "What did one ocean say to the other?" the duplicate voices rippled.

She looked at the Doctor, who joined in without missing a beat, "I don't know, Donna. What did it say?"

"Nothing! It just waved!"

They roared with laughter. Then the Doctor sighed, crossing his ankles and leaning back on his palms, "Isn't it amazing, Donna? A whole planet, uncivilized. The original call of the wild, where it all began, where our yearning to explore and categorize and learn from stemmed – this planet."

Donna hummed in agreement, looking to the side, taking in a panoramic view of all that was laid out before her. She froze though, thinking she might have seen another one of those alien monkeys.

"Hey Doctor, you mentioned the call of the wild?" she asked, looking over her shoulder after hearing a hissing noise.

"Yeah."

"Well, I think something answered." Donna gulped, and the Doctor turned to see what she was looking at. Donna wished it had been an alien monkey, especially after hearing the Doctor's next instructions.

"Donna. Run. Now." The Doctor ordered urgently. The two of them were off like bullets from a gun.

Behind them, scores of jet-black spiders the size of shoe boxes spilled over the ground after them, like a dark, racing flood.

"What is it with us and spiders?! We haven't landed in the middle of real-life Jumangi, have we?" Donna tried to joke.

"Just keep going, Donna! They're not far behind!"

Donna stole a glance but instantly wished she hadn't. They were right on their heels! It was bad enough hearing the clacking of their pincers and the incessant pattering of their feet along the jungle floor, sounding like thunder or a horse race, but to now be able to see the hairs on the tops of their bulbous abdomens bobbing as they tumbled in droves over pitched tree roots and jungle debris sent Donna into turbo mode.

"Almost to the Tardis! Come on, keep up!"

Donna wasn't far behind. She had a terrible fear of spiders, even before her encounter with the Empress of the Racnoss, a fear she was almost grateful for as it fueled her onward, adrenaline pumping fast, heart beating so furiously it was almost burning, legs aching. She had no intention of stopping, though; she was just getting into her groove when the unthinkable occurred.

She felt the tip of her foot catch under one of those pesky tree roots, and she yelped as she met the ground.

The Doctor spun around, instinctively reaching out a hand, but he couldn't reach her. The spider creatures blocked off his path and surrounded his best mate as Donna was getting to her feet. She looked around in a panic, and spotted the only narrow pathway left. She had no words for the Doctor, so she simply bolted, praying she would find the Tardis, or that he would be alright and find her first.

She swatted the overgrown branches and bushes out of her way, racing past towering tree trunks like a speeding train. The spiders were keeping up. 'They're gonna eat me!' she thought, absolutely terrified, 'This is how Donna Noble dies: spider chow.'

She was focused on keeping her feet moving, not where she was actually going, and found herself back where she and the Doctor started – at the maroon cliff.

She didn't have enough time to even feel gutted at having gone in one useless circle; her feet couldn't gain traction, and she went right over the edge, screaming like mad.

She threw her hands out, hoping to grab onto something, and she exhaled deeply when she looked at her hand grasping a jutting branch. "Oh, thank heavens."

Her victory was short-lived – the spiders clamored at the edge, peering down at her with beady red eyes. "Ohh, you're gonna give me nightmares for weeks, aren't you, you little bastards."

If they somehow understood the foul name she'd called them and took offense, the next thing that happened might have been in the form of their retaliation. One spider spun a thick, silk strand, and cleverly lowered it down. Other spiders followed suit, spinning thread and sending lines of it over the edge of the cliff, toward Donna. Those behind the row of silk-weavers climbed over the top of them and made their way down the lines, descending one after the other.

"You are kidding me." Donna glared as she watched them approach. She couldn't do anything. If she were to let go, she'd fall. She couldn't hang on – she'd be lunch.

Closer and closer they came, and Donna could see the tiny black and silver hairs on their legs. She was whimpering, losing the ability to hang on out of fear. She'd rather fall than have those creatures crawling all over her skin and in her hair. She looked up again to be met with a pair of snapping pedipalps. She screamed, and they were crawling down her arms.

"Doctor!" she shouted as she deliberately let go of the branch.

On her way to her inevitable death, what with ground a skyscraper's length beneath her, she began smacking off the critters, yanking the ones that clutched desperately onto her clothing, taking sinful delight as they shrieked, wiggling their legs and grabbing at nothing while plummeting through the air.

She hadn't gotten them off completely before she abruptly stopped. Donna was sure she had more time, but no matter, it was over now.

"Donna! I've got you!" it was a voice that sent her kicking about all over again. "Get them off me! Get them off! Get them off!" she screamed frantically, pushing her hands down her arms and over the front of her body.

He helped get rid of the bugs, kicking them out the doors, and sonicing the rest. He held her hysterical face between his palms, noticing how she trembled. He stared into her wide, glistening eyes, "It's over, Donna. They're gone."

He located the Tardis while he had been apart from Donna, slamming the doors closed behind him and locking the persistent insects out. Using the monitor and lots of help from the Old Girl, he aimed the spaceship so that Donna, indicated by the rapidly falling red dot on the screen, would land perfectly inside.

She calmed, closing her eyes and placing her hands on top of the Doctor's, which were still pressed against the sides of her head.

"Promise me something, Doctor."

"Anything." He vowed.

She took a deep breath, already seeming much more composed than moments ago. "No. more. bleedin'. spiders."

He smiled, and took her into a hug. "Deal."


	14. Journey's End, Journey's Beginning

**Journey's End/Journey's Beginning **

_Note: This is sort of a two-for-one kinda deal. Two scenarios so closely related, I didn't see the sense in separating them._

_(Keep Calm and Be Ninja, here's the one I think you have been waiting for.) _

Journey's End

Donna lurches forward over the console, gasping with a hand hovering beside her aching head, fingertips grazing her temple. The pain throbs so fiercely she can hardly hear herself when she speaks, "Oh, my God." There's a wave of nausea that accompanies the intense migraine.

"Do you know what's happening?" The Doctor asks.

"Yeah." She answers with a tinge of disdain – all that knowledge was brilliant, except for what it was informing her of now.

"There's never been a human Time Lord meta-crisis before now… and you know why."

"Because there can't be." She replies. She inhales sharply, the decision already made in her mind. "I want to stay." She declares without looking at her best friend. She knows he isn't going to like it, and she can't bear to see the look in his eyes.

She fiddles with the Tardis's buttons and levers while he closes in near her face, begging her to look at him. She knows when she turns to him, it'll make what comes next so much harder for him. Donna doesn't want her best mate in all the universe to see that she's afraid, to see that even though she's scared, there isn't a thing that'll change her mind.

"I was gonna be with you, forever." She admits, more to herself as she thinks about the moments to come.

"I know."

His response snaps her out of her daydream of adventuring with the Doctor in the Tardis. All the wonderful things they could have done together, the time lines splaying out before her: close calls, good laughs, two best friends travelling the cosmos and making a difference, saving worlds, discovering new places... but there was only one time line now within reach, only one she would have time to fulfill.

The chemical structures of her brain are breaking down; if she doesn't act now, she won't be able to. With each passing moment, another fiber of the rope holding her to this life snaps. Donna touches her own temples, closing her eyes to concentrate.

The Doctor is stunned and confused, "Donna! What are you doing?"

"Shields, Doctor. I'm so sorry, but I'm putting up shields."

"Donna, no! Don't!" his hearts cringe at the sudden terror of what she's doing in front of him, and how drastically his chances of saving her are disappearing in only a matter of seconds. He couldn't comprehend it all, he certainly wasn't expecting it.

She ignores him, the Tardis inside her mind humming and wheezing persistently with great alarm and fear for her ginger passenger.

"If you do that, I can't save you!" he almost sobs, realizing how powerless he's about to become, "Donna, please! I can't lose you. You're my whole world."

Still, Donna forges ahead. This is _her_ choice, not his. It was her life she had been living while becoming the most important woman in the universe, it had been her mind being filled with so many wonderful memories, and she wasn't going to give them up for anything in the world. She can't afford to part with them, even if it kills her, seeing as how she considers them the only meaningful and valuable thing she has, like her friendship with the Doctor. She knows she would rather part with her own life than part with him or the memories they've made.

The volume of the ship in her head decreases until it's mute, and she knows she has succeeded. The shields are up and holding, despite everything else in her mind breaking down. The last few grains of sand are pouring through the hourglass.

She finally opens her tear-filled eyes, gasping and letting her hands fall. "I had to, please understand." She whispers, her knees beginning to buckle.

"Donna." he says her name sorrowfully.

"Your handy twin… he helped… taught me about mental barricades, before… we left him behind. He knew what was going to happen. He told me, and then I could see it myself. Please. You can't... blame him." Her legs gave way and she fell into the arms of the Doctor.

They sank to the floor together in a heap. He hugged her as best he could manage, wishing by sheer will he could create life just so he could give every ounce of it to her. As much as he tried to force his way past the gates she'd installed, he couldn't. He pounded, he shoved, he kicked; he wanted so badly to get in there and take all the pain away, to protect her.

Donna was trying not to thrash, but her body wouldn't obey her commands to keep still. She felt so hot. Her breaths were picking up in pace, her eyes clenched shut, her fists squeezing themselves. The Doctor didn't want to imagine the agony she was enduring within his arms. He could feel the fiery temperature of her head through his clothing. She was so close to him, yet there wasn't anything he could do to stop it now.

"Donna, you stubborn, amazing, incredibly feisty and caring woman. You're the best friend I ever had." A tear slid down his cheek, landing on her shoulder. He swept a section of her hair from her forehead. "Special in so many ways."

Somehow, Donna managed to smile. She looked out ahead of her, trembling furiously as her brain tore itself apart. She focused on the Doctor's arms supporting her, his ice cold hand on near her eye, and on getting out the last of her words. "Thank you, Spaceman."

When the moment crashed down upon her, Donna gave a last yell of pain. The energy burst erupted, surrounding them both in a bright cloud of dusty amber light. When the air cleared, all the Doctor could stare at was his best friend's lifeless body within his embrace. Her forehead was scalding to the touch, her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted. No breath moved in her chest, limp arms rested in her lap, there was nothing. His chin wobbled, the features on his face beginning to crumple, "Oh, Donna. What am I gonna do without you?"

He held her tightly. He could have saved her, more or less. Her heart would still be beating, her voice would still be shouting somewhere in the universe, but no. He lost another one. He lost his Donna.

* * *

Journey's Beginning

The moment the Tardis dematerializes from Bad Wolf Bay, Donna is zooming around the interior of the console room.

"Donna, what are you up to?" The Doctor questions his ginger-haired companion worriedly. She's gathering objects from all over the ship, leaving her findings in a small pile near the center of the control room.

"Trying to save myself, since you aren't planning to." She says bitterly.

'She knows…' The Doctor realizes with a pit of guilt developing in his abdomen.

Donna circles the navigational panel thoughtfully, eyeing all the lights and gadgets as if she's browsing at a shop.

"It's the only way, Donna." He says sadly, a grim expression drawing creases in his face.

"Rubbish!" she shouts suddenly. She spots a particularly intriguing thingamajig and tears it roughly from the panel, punctuating her frustration.

"What the hell, Donna! She needs that!" He's storming over to her, but her glare stops him in his tracks as she rages again, "No, she doesn't! But good to know you care about at least one of the females in this general vicinity. Too bad it aint me." She shakes her head clear of the other remarks she wants to wield in his direction. "I haven't got time for this, there's too much to do. Now shove off out of my way!" she hollers.

He is about to counter her but the Tardis is humming soothingly to him. He looks at the ceiling, stretching a hand out to caress one of the coral columns. 'What's going on?'

He turns to Donna, only to find her half below the floor as she digs through a box of timey-wimey do-dads from under the grating. He kneels on the platform beside her as she continues rummaging, trying to hold multiple items at once.

She fumes with every breath, causing her nostrils to flare, droplets of sweat beginning to slide down from her temples. He notices with great alarm that she's trembling. "Don't just stand there, help me for Christ's sake!" she pleads angrily through gritted teeth.

He doesn't know what to do for a moment. He was planning on wiping her memories, but Donna seemed very determined in following her own agenda. If he doesn't take the memories away, she'll burn, and if he surrenders his original plan, he has no way of saving her. She looks up at him imploringly with glistening eyes, "Please, Doctor. Help."

He blows a breath from his mouth and takes some of the items off her hands, freeing her arms up so she can pack them with other items. They carry her selections over to the junk pile.

Donna stops for a moment, standing before the small heap of whatchamacallits and Tardis fragments. She's holding a hand to her head, grimacing slightly. "What are we building, Donna?" The Doctor asks, trying to get her to focus. He runs a rake of fingers through his wild hair.

She struggles to retrieve her concentration, her thoughts, her composure, but she manages. "Another Z-Neutrino Biological Inversion Catalyser, except this one's gonna replicate the electrical charge Davros nailed me with. We've got to reverse the process. All the Time Lord DNA, it has to stop wreaking havoc on my synapses. In short Doctor, I need the parts in my brain that belong to you to take a nice, long kip."

The Doctor pondered her rationale and looked at the mound, eyes darting back and forth between her and the parts. "Donna Noble, you Super Temp genius." He beamed. Donna imagined the light bulb turning on above his head.

"For now." she joked half-heartedly. Her hands hovered over the techno-bits, and at first the Doctor thought she was wiggling her fingers with excitement over constructing this mechanism, but he realized her hands were quaking for quite a different reason.

"Don't worry, we can do this." The Doctor offered, and he helped her quickly as they got down on their hands and knees, the Doctor sonicing, Donna instructing. They worked in impeccable tandem, even under the circumstances, with death peering in from the Tardis door, about to knock on it with his scythe.

"Doctor." Donna whispered nervously from beside her partner, holding two hands against her head.

"There isn't much time, Donna. You relax, take deep breaths. I can finish this." The Doctor holds two pieces together, fastening things into place at a frantic speed, and giving the invention a brief once-over.

Donna is lying on her back. Her breaths are labored, her eyes are closed. The Doctor is terrified, but he's also excited. If she survives, he won't have to be alone, he won't have to be alone _without_ _her_. He crawls to her side and sits on his calves.

"All done, Donna. Are you ready?"

She opens her eyes from the floor, nodding vaguely. Her vision is blurry, and she can only see his silhouette no matter how many times she blinks.

She can tell he's having trouble, though. Pointing the large weapon at his best friend is making him uneasy and dubious, so Donna reaches two hands out to the newly created piece of technology and somehow grabs it, pointing it against her own chest.

"Go big or go home, Spaceman. I trust you." She wanted to add, 'I'm counting on you, I need you, I'll be alright,' but she didn't have that much energy to spare. These were her final moments if he didn't pull the trigger.

There was a loud boom as the Doctor squeezed his finger. He let out the breath he was holding, and watched the tendrils of bright blue light engulf Donna, taking her hostage. He had to stand back. She gasped and her back arched off the ground. Her fingers splayed out and hooked onto the grating.

The Doctor regretted it instantly. She was probably dying. He'd just killed her. The one person he couldn't bear to lose...

She hadn't screamed at all, she just rolled onto her side and curled herself up as her body convulsed. She gasped through the sensations roving over her skin and in her mind. So much pain that she hadn't ever felt or imagined in her entire life. There was a gut-wrenching thought that tumbled into her head that she might actually not wake up as the blackness flooded in from the corners of her eyes.

The last few sparks fizzled out, and Donna laid motionless in front of him. He dropped the Biological Catalyser, not caring that the force of it clattering against the metal platform sent pieces of it flying off. He knelt beside her, gently pulling her shoulder toward him so she would lie on her back. He felt her forehead, the temperature was a normal 98.7 degrees Fahrenheit. He felt her neck for a pulse, and oh, thank all the stars in the universe, he found one.

"Donna? Donna, can you hear me?" he coaxed her back into consciousness with low, soothing tones, pressing the back of his fingers gently against her cheek. "Come on, Donna. Wake up." He leaned over her, seeking out any kind of sign she was beginning to stir.

She took in a soft breath, and her eyes fluttered open, immediately landing on that handsome face. She returned his beaming smile with a grin of her own.

"Allons-y, Spaceman."


	15. Noble

**Noble**

For once in her life, Donna Noble was finally living up to her name, carried through the countryside in an extravagantly ornamented sedan chair, open to the fresh air surrounding her. Even if she was only 20 inches off the ground, since her worshipers were living garden gnomes, she could still appreciate the view, and she could certainly appreciate being treated like royalty.

She glanced behind her at the disgruntled Time Lord trailing behind, adorning the gnomes' version of a jester's outfit – featuring wristbands of pink and white flowers, and of course the halo encircling his dome fashioned with the same lovely plants. A skirt of sewn together flowers surrounded his waist, the strands billowing as he took each step. He was shooting daggers at the ginger queen.

She scoffed, "Oh come on, Spaceman!" He briefly regarded her with a flash of his eyes, returning them to the ground below for fear of being walloped in the shins again by a gnome. Apparently it was against their custom to allow anyone who denies the queen's regal status to look upon her, hence also the decision to make him wear the flowers. These gnomes were cheeky.

Donna rolled her eyes. "How were we supposed to know having ginger hair is heralded as royalty by these cute little guys? It's not my fault you disagreed with them. Just admit it mighty Time Lord: for once, I'm better than you." The Doctor huffed and turned his head. Donna sighed to herself in resignation.

She leaned down and whispered into the ear of the gnome in charge. He seemed steadfast in denying whatever it was she requested, until she reached up and stroked her flaming locks, at which point the little creature succumbed, apologizing and bowing as he granted his approval. Donna bowed her head in gratitude, which only made the gnome feel the need to offer additional gratitude to top her own. She chuckled at his exuberance, watching him as he stepped aside.

Donna looked at the Doctor with a smirk, tapping the cushion beside her. The gnomes set down the chair and he climbed up. "Thank you your highness, thank you, thank you, oh thank you." He gushed sarcastically, getting down on his knees and holding up his clenched-together hands for added enthusiasm.

"Now, now, Doctor. Behave or I'll call upon my authority and make them add sparkles." She gestured to his fashionable headpiece. His face took on a grumpy expression, and he plopped himself down beside her.

"Onward, darlings!" she commanded, and they were off, which thoroughly impressed Donna. "Did you see that? That actually worked!" she raved in a hushed voice to her less-than-interested partner, slapping him excitedly on the shoulder. "This is the life." She reclined leisurely in the chair, crossing one leg over the other and placing her hands behind her head.

Once they reached the town square, flowers showered over Donna (well, more like landed on her from nose-level, as that was as tall as the buildings the gnomes stood on were), there was cheering and singing, confetti flittering about, gifts of fruit, offerings of seeds, bowing wherever she looked. "Oi, I could seriously get used to this!" she confessed, as little hands petted her hair.

Donna gracefully accepted each souvenir, waving daintily, and blowing kisses to the crowd. She giggled cheerfully and put on her most charming smile for her admirers. The gnomes ate it up, relishing in every bit of the show she put on for them. They thought she was the most beautiful creature that had ever stepped foot on their soil; the absolute bees knees.

The Doctor couldn't blame them there. He gazed on her, standing on a platform and waving a bejeweled scepter about (nearly dropping it only once), dubbing each and every gnome either a dame or a duke. Her simulated elegance and poise dripped from her in every motion. She lowered herself to allow a garland of large periwinkle flowers to be hung around her neck, her celebrated hair falling in wavy red tresses across her shoulders. Another gnome approached and placed a tropical-looking flower behind her ear.

She thanked them, looking over at the Doctor with an amused smile who was similarly adorned with a floral lei. His was pink, to match his skirt, naturally.

They eventually bid their farewells, heading back to the Tardis, the Doctor steering a wheelbarrow loaded with gifts through the woods. The blue box was a mere few feet away, so the Doctor set down the wheelbarrow to retrieve his key. Donna pulled the flower from her ear and inhaled its sweet aroma, sighing in delight, waiting at the door for the Doctor to unlock the Tardis.

The Doctor held the door open to her, bowing, "Come your Majesty, 'tis time for tea."

She held her hand to him in a ladylike manner, and moved only when he took her fingers. He held them as she stepped inside, her nose turned up, a proud smile pulling at her lips. He followed after her, pushing the wheelbarrow inside, thinking, 'tea, and a hundred foot long pole to pull her head down from the clouds.' He shook his head with a grin as he turned back and closed the door.


	16. Making Breakfast

**Making Breakfast**

"Please, Donna? Pretty please? Please, please, please?"

It was the hundredth time, at least, that the Doctor had begged her. It had started in her bedroom, when he pranced towards her sleeping form way too early in the morning, asking over and over again. Now, as she went to spit her toothpaste into the sink, she glared at him in the mirror. After she rinsed her mouth, she said, "No, how many times do I need to say no for you to understand its meaning?" She dried her hands and mouth on a towel, muttering as she passed him, "Superior Time Lord brain, my arse."

"Donna," he whined, following her out of the bathroom. She groaned as he continued, "please! You don't understand how badly I need this. I've waited all night to ask you!"

"And now you've asked me," she said, grabbing her robe and putting her arms through it, "and whether you like my answer or not, I gave it." she put her feet into her slippers and shuffled towards the kitchen.

"Donna, please? You're my Earthgirl, you have to! Please? Please?" he followed her down the corridor, pleading all the way.

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Say yes."

"No!"

"PLEASE, DONNA."

"NO, DOCTOR!" she mimicked him.

She made it to the counter and started making the coffee, talking to him without looking up, "Doctor, we agreed on this months ago, it's your week to make breakfast. I have made breakfast for the past 7 days. Therefore," She faced him, and the next three words were punctuated with pokes to the chest, "It's. your. turn." She folded her arms firmly across her chest.

"I know, I know, but I really want it. And I only like it when you make it. I've been craving it all night." he pouted, sticking out his bottom lip in hopes of breaking down her stern exterior.

"Doctor, don't you dare." She pointed a finger at him against his puppy dog eyes. He deepened the pout and clapped his hands together in front of him. She didn't doubt that he would be on his knees if she continued to reject him.

There was a long moment while Donna pondered the idea of him on his knees at her mercy, versus starting her morning at the front of the stove - would she continue to tease him for her own enjoyment, or would she give in like she already knew she would? Donna dropped her arms and sighed, "Oh fine, you big baby, I'll make you pancakes."

He cleared his throat.

"With fried honey bananas on top." She added, and when his mouth opened to speak, she cut him off, "And extra banana slices on the side."

He positively beamed at her. "Oh Donna, you're the best."

Her mouth quirked into a grin, "Don't think you aren't going to pay for this, Spaceman. You bloody well owe me." She said in a mildly playful tone.

"Anything, you deserve it." He nodded emphatically, going into the fridge for the maple syrup and orange juice.

She froze with the flour and bananas in hand, staring up as she thought. "Foot massages for a week." She stated.

"Uh-huh." The Doctor acknowledged, knowing full well she wasn't done. He got two glasses out of the cupboard, and fetched the mixing bowl he knew Donna would have needed the step stool for, waiting for her to continue.

"A trip to that planet with the thousand fountains of chocolate."

"Yep." He popped the 'p', sitting at the table with a plate in front of him and one placed at the seat where he knew Donna would eat.

"And..." she began thoughtfully, she turned to look at the Doctor, and he encouraged her with a smile, one she reciprocated.

"And a surprise. I'll let you figure that one out." She winked, and got to work on the pancakes.

The Doctor watched her measure the flour, leveling each cup with the flat edge of a knife. She whipped up the batter in no time at all, and he watched her making breakfast, thinking of all the ways he could surprise her.


	17. Do or Die

**Do or Die**

He'd finally done it. She knew he would eventually, she had a feeling the daft Martian would get them infected by some incurable alien aphrodisiac sooner or later. Here they were, in the middle of a flower field. The Doctor had suggested a walk through the countryside, and it was a lovely idea; Donna adored flowers and serene landscapes. It had been a delightful leisure stroll until they both felt burning inside them, burning that wasn't painful, just intense, and unmistakable.

"Oops." The Doctor muttered, looking sheepishly down at Donna.

"Oops? What does that mean?" she spoke cautiously, she could feel the tension pooling below, the ache that was growing with every breath she took.

"It means, I've lead us right into a patch of sexually arousing flowers. The toxin is in the pollen, and we've been breathing it in for precisely thirty-two minutes and nine seconds."

"Toxin? These look like regular daffodils to me, pal. Are you having me on? Did you put something in my soup at lunch?" Donna tried sounding mad, but she didn't quite succeed. She took a deep breath in through her nose, trying to force down the flames that were very keen on possessing her so they could lunge her at the Doctor.

"I didn't poison you, Donna. I've been… affected… too." He said reluctantly, looking down at the front of his trousers.

Donna's jaw fell open at the sight, it was mortifying because of their friends-only policy, but she would be lying if she denied the sight didn't also please her. They spent a few awkward moments squirming in front of each other, trying to get themselves and their buckwild libidos under control. They couldn't concentrate on running out of the field, not when the side effects of the pollen held them hostage. All they really wanted to do was eat each other's faces.

The Doctor breathed as calmly as he could, the crisp air entering into his nose like invisible tendrils, it was laced with Donna's scent. The Doctor wondered if she smelled this amazing all the time, and made a mental note to check on that from this day on. He wanted to know desperately what they would smell like together, her aroma mingling with his.

Donna rubbed her hand around the back of her neck, next using it to fan herself. She noticed how intently the Doctor watched her, staring with predatory eyes. She stopped flapping her hand instantly as she registered the desire in his eyes. "That 'just mates' thing," she started, gulping nervously.

The Doctor stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her, and speaking so close to her mouth she could feel his breath breeze past her parted lips. "Null and void."

With that, their lips crashed together…

* * *

_I know, the cliche sex pollen, but I had to take a crack at it. _


	18. Damage

_Minor warning: a bit on the dark side (alcohol abuse involved). Does this particularly need a warning? Meh, I don't know. Should I have put warnings on previous chapters? Maybe...? You'll have to forgive me, I'm quite bad at this whole making up my mind nonsense..._

* * *

**Damage**

The bottle tilts up, the liquid goes down, the warmth blooms. The harsh burn in her throat had dissipated long ago; it was easy for her to toss back swig after swig.

She'd been back aboard the Tardis for a month now, and she would never admit it to the Doctor, but she was having trouble adjusting. It just didn't feel the same anymore - the Tardis, the traveling, the adventuring, the alien civilizations, none of it. He'd betrayed her by taking her memories, letting her rot in a depressed and anxious, almost delirious, state for three wretched years. She had changed so much inside; being without him brought her to dark places she never thought she would go, the places you find people when they are at the end of their rope. To him, she was the same old Donna, and she intended to ensure his belief in that. To have him know just how destroyed she'd become because of something he did, would destroy him, too. It would be alright though, as long as the Doctor didn't find out. She was used to bottling her true feelings anyway. She shouted a lot, of course, but the things that mattered were locked away deep inside. When the Doctor was around, everything that bothered her stayed beneath the façade she built, and she could keep it up, she could pretend. She could cry herself to sleep. No big deal.

But on nights like this, when sleep wouldn't come, she stayed up all night, listening to the Tardis, and thanking the Old Girl for keeping her hidden from him while she sulked and dealt with her feelings. The bottle was more than half gone already, and she was surprised by the speed at which the contents disappeared, particularly since she hadn't had a single alcoholic drink since she'd been back, not even at parties on foreign planets, or at the dinner he took her on last week. She hadn't touched a single drop.

She slid out of her seat in the kitchen, and stumbled to the console room, zig-zagging her way towards the twin doors, booze sloshing around in the glass. She opened them and gazed out at the stars. The Old Girl gently throbbed in her mind, warning her to be careful. Donna acknowledged the warning with an absentminded wave of her hand near her ear, distracted by the view. The stars were so beautiful, the most amazing stars Donna had ever seen, and despite the numbness that was cascading over her from the liquor, she found that the stars comforted her in a way that nothing else on Earth had. Except maybe the whiskey. She found that comforting.

After sloppily wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, she crouched down to the ground and swung her legs out from under her, landing on her bum roughly and sitting on the threshold of the blue box. She leaned her head on the door frame, hiccuping and watching the shimmering stars go by as the Tardis drifted along. She took another large mouthful from the bottle, not bothering to wipe the tears that slid down her cheek. She didn't even know why she was crying, it was just another one of those nights she cried for no reason, or she cried for everything.

Her eyelids grew heavy, and as she watched the bright dots twinkle, she fell into a peaceful abyss of silence. She knew there would be hell to pay in the morning, but she could lie and say she was sick instead of hungover, she reasoned it wouldn't be that far off from the truth anyway...

The Doctor was coming to 'Fuse Box #3' inside the console room when he noticed Donna. "Hey Donna, you alright?" He asked softly, surprised to see her still up and about - he thought she'd gone to bed hours ago. She didn't reply, or even register he'd spoken. He approached her, asking, "Trouble sleeping?" He peered over her shoulder to see her face, and then he noticed the bottle of copper colored liquid still clutched in her hand. He was instantly overwhelmed by guilt, he knew she wasn't her normal self lately, and he knew it was his fault for what he'd put her through. He knew they would have to talk about things from the moment he brought her back, but he could tell she hadn't wanted to. Maybe with time she would get back into the groove of things, he had reasoned, but now he knew this would not be something she could do on her own. He only wished she'd come to him, instead of the Old Girl's liquor cabinet. Could he blame her? Not really, not when he had been the one to cause the trouble to begin with. He was her best friend, but he had also been her murderer, and trust was such a delicate thing.

He crouched down beside her, taking a moment to look out at the sea of stars. He noticed their brightness, and prayed to Gallifrey that the same luminosity hadn't gone out in Donna. He took a breath, and placed his hand on her shoulder, shaking it, "Donna?" She snuffled a little in her upright position, and started to fall backwards toward the grating. His hand was behind her back to stop her. He looked down at her, at the dried streaks left there by her tears. He tenderly brushed a few strands of her fringe off her forehead. "I'm sorry, Donna." He whispered, for which he earned little more than a feeble moan. He sighed, his lips then forming a stiff thin line as he regarded the state of her. He was ashamed of himself, and knew Donna would feel the same way of herself, because that was Donna. They would be ashamed together, for different reasons, and would heal together.

With one arm around her back, he placed the other beneath the crook of her legs and carried her off to bed. He pulled the covers over her, and pulled up a chair for himself, making sure her trash bin was nearby in case she didn't make it the bathroom in the morning. Judging by the amount left in the bottle, tomorrow was going to be a rough day for her, but at least now, unlike before, he would be there to help her get through.

* * *

_Just a heads-up: Updates might get a little bit slow, what with Easter this weekend and it coming toward the end of the semester, which means lots of paper-writing and studying for exams, not that you absolutely needed to know that, but there it is. But fear not, more chapters are on the way. _


	19. Just Hold Me

**Just Hold Me**

The Doctor and Donna entered the Tardis sluggishly, Donna more so than the Doctor. It had been a long day, between the church, the funeral parlor, the cemetery, and the Mott-Noble home. Not to mention all the exhaustion from the never-ending emotion on top of that. She was tired, she was sad, she was brokenhearted. Her gramps was the one person who had always been there for her, he understood, he cared, he forgave her when she messed up, and gave her the confidence to try again. He was the buffer that made living with her mother bearable. Especially after her dad passed away - her gramps provided the only source of warmth and acceptance Donna knew. He was an eccentric, stubborn, loving old man, and Donna would miss him more than she could have imagined, even as his health declined steadily over the past few months.

After the third hospital visit, the Doctor offered to help him, offered to temporarily take him and Sylvia to a future where there were cures for old age, or at least bring something back for him that would mend the aliments of wear and tear on the human body. Wilf denied it steadfast, claiming humbly and sternly that he had lived his life, in his time, and felt blessed enough to live as long as he had. He was grateful for so much, which made having to leave it all behind one day soon a brutal task to be faced, but he didn't see himself as different from any other elderly person – if they had to face it, so did he. He considered himself special having known the Doctor, seeing Donna traveling and proud of herself for a change, seeing Sylvia less belittling toward his granddaughter, seeing the stars through his telescope.

She was going to miss his stories, she was going to miss him defending her, and her heart twisted in knots when she realized how much she would miss bringing him a thermos on the hill. She already missed his voice. The surprised and excited, "Oh, Donna!" as she gave him the chocolate covered biscuits with his tea he knew her mum would have a fit over, "Thank you, sweetheart." And he would almost always salute.

Donna pleaded with him to prolong his life, even just a little bit, at least until he had great-grandchildren, but he said everything he could teach them, was already taught to her. She complained that she wouldn't tell his stories the same way, with the same enthusiasm. He only stroked her cheek and said she would do it better. He would be watching anyway, he would never be far away. It was simply his time.

She sat sideways on the jump-seat, her back facing the Doctor, who tossed his black coat over a coral column. He could see the silent sobs filling and leaving her lungs rapidly, her shoulders heaving.

He came up behind and placed his hands on her shoulders, squeezing comfortingly. She turned herself around to face him, and stood before him without looking him in the eyes. He could read the pain on her face, the weeping that hadn't fully had its chance to be expelled, ready to burst. He opened his arms and took her into his embrace. She leaned forward, tucking her arms up and holding onto his shirt. She could hear the heartbeats in his chest, and could smell the subtle scent of his cologne. It smelled like the kind gramps wore, which unleashed another strong jolt of sadness through her.

"What can I do?" he asked, tenderly stroking her back as she cried properly.

"Hold me, just hold me, please." She gasped between sobs.

And he did.


	20. System Restore

**System Restore**

The time rotor gagged and stuttered on its journey up and down the translucent cylindrical column. Her notorious wheezing was warped, wavering like a vinyl record that had seen better days. Loud clanking and the sound of steam hissing out from somewhere echoed from behind the wall panels.

It was going to be the fourth time he'd have to do it – the poor Old Girl couldn't protect herself like she used to, all kinds of outer space viruses wreaking havoc on her systems. Humans would call it a 'system restore,' something they do to their computers and mobiles. That's what the Doctor came to call it, too. Made sense, as he was performing the same tasks as the Earth version – resetting the Tardis's databases and programs (and memories, since she was sentient), back to a point before the viruses infected her. Each time he simultaneously pressed the button and yanked down the lever, he never knew exactly how far back she'd reset – it was a solution he invented, or adapted rather, just for the time ship, and he hadn't figured out how to get rid of all the kinks. He was never certain what state of mind she would resurface with; he gambled each time. A lot of the time lately he felt like he was caring for an elderly person with dementia; she would always be disoriented and have a difficult time performing simple tasks. She just couldn't take care of herself like she used to. It broke his hearts of course, to see his faithful spaceship in a state of decay. In the previous rounds of the procedure, he made sure he meticulously regulated her sensors, returning her to a semblance of normal functioning. It was all he could do for now.

The lights were going out and the control room juddered and groaned as she shivered in the vortex. Rooms were bleeding into one another because the walls were destabilizing, and the columns were trembling like they were in the middle of an earthquake. He hadn't much time before the life in her core evaporated completely, he could feel the golden tendrils flail helplessly as she was plagued by the vicious alien cyber threats. He wasn't alarmed, just sorrowful and melancholy that after all their time together, he could do nothing to save his constant companion but press 'rewind' every couple of weeks.

He knew it was cruel, even dangerous, and he ought to just put her out of her misery, but then he'd be stuck without a ship, without a home, not only that but the very notion of any more loneliness made him nauseous. It was apparent that his makeshift repairs weren't cutting it anymore, after all the years of replacing this and modifying that, the fragile thing she now was didn't even have it in her to travel far back enough in time for him to swipe decently suitable parts. He only hoped someday soon, a vessel of some sort would find him, that the beings on board could come to an agreement and be willing to help, but until then he would continue to drift for as long as he and the Old Girl could.

He circled the console with his hands in his pockets, looking between the flashing button and the slot machine style lever. He placed his finger on the domed feature, pressing it down. He leaned over and gripped the spherical handle of the lever, and took one last look at the dimly glowing time rotor, his ship not even forming coherent thoughts in his mind anymore. He held his finger down as he pulled the lever. A few sparks erupted from the console and the Tardis interior went black. He stood still, like a piece of furniture left in the dark of an attic when the flashlight fades, just waiting, just breathing. The minutes ticked on.

Eventually, one by one, the lights gently flickered on – the equivalent of opening one's eyes after a long slumber. She hummed to her thief, a long, low, lazy tone followed by a short huff.

"Hello, Old Girl." he replied, reaching into his pocket for his glasses. "Let's have a look at you." He took the monitor in his hands and swung it slowly so he could read the reports, tenderly stroking the console. While he continued to assess the data, her voice flowed through his mind, the same voice that accompanied him always.

_Where is she?_ Her voice was tinged with drowsiness. He reasoned that she really ought to be resting.

"Where's who?" he asked aloud.

_The red one, our favorite… _

He fell silent, eyes no longer registering the circular Gallifreyan forms on the screen.

_Where is Donna?_

He wasn't prepared for this. She was restored further back during each trial but never this far. It was so long ago, yet his hearts shattered as easily as if it happened days ago. Even now, in his eighteenth regeneration, she haunted his nightmares.

"Donna's gone." Came his choked response.

_My thief, I do not understand. _The monitor began beeping and the screen shifted – the Tardis was searching for Donna on board, and when nothing was discovered, she visibly and audibly sulked.

_I don't want the red one to be gone. Bring her back, my thief. Please. _

He rubbed a hand down the front of his face, regarding the central mechanism with teary eyes. She blew an insistent rush of air over him, the equivalent of a shoulder nudge.

_You need her. Find Donna. _

"I wish I could, Old Girl. Believe me, I wish I could." He sighed, petting the console and trying to comfort his ship as she relived the loss of Donna. He reached for a large dial and fixed the setting to 'Hibernate.' The humming decreased and the lighting dimmed as she was made to doze. "Rest now. I'll take care of you. You and I will be alright, I promise." He let his hand slide down from the controls and strode grimly over to the jump-seat and sat down, planting his elbows on his knees and putting his head in his hands. The good thing about not having a companion, was not having to worry about them hearing you weep.

* * *

_More this weekend._


	21. To Us

**My Girl, My Guy**

With a pile of folded towels in her arms, Donna walked into the Doctor's bedroom (familiar territory now that they'd agreed to date), heading for his en-suite bathroom. At the sound of running water in the shower, she stopped with her hand on the doorknob. 'Oh, guess he's taking a shower.' She thought, turning to place the towels on the bed instead.

As she placed the items on the duvet, the Doctor started singing. Donna's eyes widened, and she froze. 'No way, he's not actually _singing_, is he?'

"_I've got sunshine, on a cloudy day…"_

'Oh no.' she tried to contain her laughter, covering her mouth with her fingertips as he sang with the gusto and fervor of a performer.

"_When it's cold outside, I've got the month of May."_

'I wonder if he's dancing in there.' She tiptoed back over to the door, placing her hand delicately on the knob and listening with an ear pressed to the door; she turned the knob slowly without making a sound.

"_I guess you'd say, what can make me feel with way?"_

She was going to crack the door open to get a peek at him, but before she could, he sang out the next lyrics.

"_Donna. Donna. Donna… Talkin' bout, Donaaa."_

Her hand returned to her side as the other covered her heart, 'Bless. He sings about me in the shower. That daft old Martian.' She shook her head and happily listened to the rest of the song. When the water turned off, she crept swiftly out of the room and to the kitchen. He was always hungry after a shower, so she decided to make a quick little something for him to devour.

With knife in hand, she slathered on the mayonnaise in a thin layer on one slice of bread, whistling a song called My Guy as she assembled the Doctor's sandwich, licking a spot of mayo off her thumb. As she sliced and layered, she swayed her hips and bobbed her head, the melody flowing through her even as she put the jar of mayo back in the fridge. As she stretched to retrieve a clean plate, the Doctor abandoned his unobserved place in the doorway and came up from behind to take her around the waist. She let go of the plate without fear as it was only wedged out a little bit, and turned to face him, bringing them nearly nose to nose with each other.

"You heard me in that shower, didn't you?" he spoke in smooth, playful tones.

She let a small giggle escape her throat as she grinned, "I don't know what you're talking about."

He squeezed her a little tighter, putting his forehead against hers, "I think you do."

She shook her head vaguely, eyes trained on his lips.

"Come now Donna Noble, you're not a very good liar." He said distractedly, beginning to sway softly with her in his embrace. He pulled her head onto his shoulder.

"I'll never tell." She vowed, smiling contently as she heard the Doctor start to hum the same song from the shower.

He kissed the top of her head after a few verses. "You're my girl, Donna, my Earthgirl."

She sighed happily, "I know, and you're my guy." She kissed him quickly on the lips just as his tummy rumbled. She smirked knowingly and turned from him for a moment to retrieve the plate from the cupboard, placing the sandwich in the center. She turned back around to face him with the plate balanced on her palm in front of his face.

He was surprised, thinking it was something she'd prepared for herself, not him. She winked seeing his touched expression, pushing the sandwich in his direction with a small thrust. "For my guy."

He took the plate and leaned forward to kiss her, not passionately, but longer than the one she gave him, and with as much meaning. He grinned, looking down at her, "For my girl."

He took her hand and led them over to the table. He took up half the sandwich and then slid the plate in her direction with the other half still on it. She held the half to him, inviting him to mirror her gesture. He met hers with his own, and they silently toasted their blooming relationship.


	22. So Close Yet So Far

**So Close Yet So Far**

They stepped out of the Tardis, and Donna took in the surroundings – pink skies, red pavement, pale purple grasses. The buildings were tall, making the scene look like one inspired from a futuristic city. The 'greenery' was not so much green as it was vibrant shades of red and pink. The aliens walked two by two and hand in hand up and down the pavement, no hovercraft passed them without at least two passengers.

"Oh no, we've landed on this planet's equivalent of Valentine's Day." The Doctor risked a glance at Donna, judging by her glare deciding it best to continue carefully, "Only, here, it's much worse I'm afraid." He rubbed his hand around the back of his neck, "See, these people are matchmakers by nature. They're very open about their beliefs, we can just say that. And on a day like today, when love is especially celebrated, well…" The Doctor trailed off, swallowing as he and Donna noticed a pair of violet-skinned aliens locking lips.

"Basically, everyone's in love."

Donna's face scrunched up in disbelief, "That's not possible, what about people who aren't, for lack of a better term, hooking up with anyone yet? Don't they have to be 'of age'?"

"Yes, that's why if you notice, there aren't any children out and about." He paused to let Donna scan the area with her eyes as he knew she would. "The children stay in school until their teenage years, then they find someone in their respective group, and only when they've found someone to be intimately affectionate with do they come above ground. Today is about celebrating this year's 'graduates' of love."

"That's just wizard."

The Doctor pulled his mouth to one corner as he thought about what to do, "If it's too awkward for you, Donna…"

"Are you daft?" she interrupted. "Think a bunch of outer space lovesick puppies are going to get you off the hook? I don't think so, Spaceman. You promised me the best firework display this side of the galaxy, and I'm not leaving until we get some!"

His eyebrow raised, "Get some?"

She noticed the teasing manner in which he spoke and jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow for it, further admonishing with, "Not like that, you pillock!"

He grinned at her reaction and wrapped his hand around hers, "Come on, we need to catch the next bus if we're going to make it on time." He grabbed her hand, and they walked briskly to the bus stop. He explained to her on the way that the area would be too crowded for him to park the Tardis any closer, but assured her the bus ride wouldn't be a long one.

The bus pulled up to the stop, and once the departing passengers cleared the steps, they climbed aboard and chose two seats next to each other near the back. At the next stop, a couple of aliens sat in front of them, and the moment their bums were seated, they were snogging like there was no tomorrow. The Doctor cleared his throat, but they paid no mind. He looked at Donna beside him, who just stared ahead. It took him a few moments, but he was thoroughly surprised to recognize a wistful look on her face. Normally, he would mentally chastise the human race for being so emotionally driven, but this was Donna, this was different.

"Don't you want that?" he found himself asking before he could stop himself.

She snapped out of her daydream. "Hm? Oh, well… don't we all?"

He regarded her for a moment, "I suppose so." He turned his head to look out of the window. She watched him thoughtfully.

Thankfully, the growling bus engine overpowered the sound of lips smacking as they sat in silence.

"Donna?" he asked without turning away from the blurs of warm colors beyond the glass.

"Yeah?" she looked at him expectantly, she tried to tame her wild heart as it fluttered at what his next question could be. _Stop being such a child! _

"Do you really want that?" he asked, turning his attention to her after he seemed to first gather up the courage.

She studied her nails nervously, "Course. I'm human, ain't I?" she met his eyes with a simple smile that vanished as another thought struck her. "Does that make things awkward now that I've said that?" she worried instantly.

"No." he quickly pacified her fret.

She could see the troubled expressions taking up position over his features. "What is it then?" at first, he didn't seem to hear her. "Spaceman? Why did you ask?"

He was struggling – should he be open with her? What if he ruined things? Would she want to go home? Rassilon, he couldn't let that happen. The very thought made his chest tighten and explode at the same time.

"No, I uh… I was just wondering…" he looked at her, then over her shoulder, then to his lap. His brow furrowed before he finally looked back up at her. "Do you ever regret coming with me? Do you ever feel like there's another life you would rather be living if only you didn't travel?"

She grabbed his hand and held onto it as firmly as she spoke, "No, never. The way I see it, I willingly gave up any other life when I stepped on board your ship. And I'm fine with that. There's no place I'd rather be." She squeezed his hand.

He could see it in her eyes, though; she still wanted it. Part of her yearned to have a normal, domestic, loving and fulfilling relationship with someone, it was the natural part of her, the soft part, the part she didn't always express. Knowing that she would ignore herself and her own needs, for him, made his love for this companion grow a hundred times bigger than it was, which he would have thought was impossible, seeing as how he loved her so much already.

"You don't have to give up anything, Donna. I mean, there are... ways around it."

"Like what?" she scoffed. "Anyone I meet will take one look at you and your ship and run the other way. Besides, who am I gonna find who will even want to spend time with me? Didn't work out so well before…" she reasoned quietly with just a touch of sad humor, looking up at the couple in front of them who now rested their heads on each other.

"Donna," he placed his hand on her lap, the same hand she had squeezed only a few minutes before, "any man would be lucky beyond words. Hey, if I can put up with you…" he tried to make her laugh, but all he got was a wane smile.

"Yeah, and I wonder every day why you do."

_Because I love you. _"Because you're my best mate." He patted her leg comfortingly.

"Thank you." She said, placing her hand over his. She let out a deep breath, returning her voice to its normal level, "Now don't you go pitying me, Martian. I'll knock it right out of you."

He held up both his hands in surrender. "Say no more. No pity for you here." He put a hand on her shoulder, adding a soft stoke with his thumb, "Just a friend who understands." _So much more than a friend._

The bus squealed to a stop, their stop, and they walked out into the crowd, the setting sun casting amber rays across the expanse. They watched the fireworks, or at least Donna did. The Doctor spent most of the time looking at her, unable to keep his eyes away. One day he would tell her, but the important thing was that she was still with him, and for now, just having her close was enough.


	23. Advice

**Advice**

She was rebellious, she stayed out late, never got into trouble with the police, but certainly got into trouble with her mother. Her dad stayed quiet, even when her mother invited him into the argument with some callous remark about parenting. He could never choose sides, he could never be as bitter as mother and daughter were to each other during those tumultuous teenage years.

After a particularly spirited argument, she remembers her mother telling her that if she liked not coming home so much, to never come home again. Donna had reached her limit that night, and the young ginger teen thundered up the staircase, packing a bag straight away. She planned on using the money left from last week's paycheck to get her out of town.

The suitcase was packed in six minutes, now all she needed was one little bag for all the things on her dresser and in front of her mirror. She tossed them into her school bag, taking a picture of her and her dad from the mirror's frame and slipping it into her pocket. She noticed something else too, sticking from between the mirror and the frame, a folded piece of white paper.

_Don't leave now, your mum loves you and would never want you to go, no matter how angry she gets, and your dad adores you. I promise Donna Noble, it gets better. Learn to roll with the punches, each one will make you stronger. In time you'll find yourself happier than you could ever dream. You're special, don't forget that. Hard times will produce your greatest gifts. Just you wait. _

She scoffed at the note, turning it over in her hands. She sighed. Reluctantly, she tucked the note into her drawer, tossed her bags into her closet, and curled up in bed. For whatever reason, she decided to stick it out tonight. Donna fell asleep, never noticing the blue box vanishing outside her window.


	24. Sweet Dreams

_Hey! What do you know, I'm not dead. It's been a while, but the semester's finally winding down. Here's a new chapter, I've got more in the making. _

**Sweet Dreams**

After the undeniable noise filtered through his ears for the third time, it caused a tingle to coil up from within, yet he fought the urge as he warned her sternly, "Donna, don't do that."

She looked at him from her place beside him, asking innocently, "Do what?" She yawned again.

"That." The Doctor said with an emphatic nod and raised eyebrows. The need was becoming too strong.

"Why?" her brow furled with confusion.

"Because," he swallowed it, "then I'll yawn."

"I can't help it." She leaned her head back on the bars. It was rather uncomfortable, but the weight of her head was becoming too much as her drowsiness grew, and the cold metal would have to suffice for a pillow, as there was no other option. Both she and the Doctor sat on a concrete floor (well, she assumed it was concrete, on an alien planet one never knows).

The Doctor noticed her eyes slide closed after a few feeble attempts to keep them open, so he took advantage of the opportunity and yawned as quietly as he could. His mouth stretched open and a steady stream of air passed his throat and into his lungs. He might have failed to monitor the volume of his exhale, but his partner hadn't moved, so he considered himself in the clear...

"You yawned." Donna stated flatly, never moving her head.

He rolled his eyes and asked curiously, "How did you know?"

She looked at him with a playful, sleepy grin, "If I tell you I'd have to kill you."

He let out a laugh, running his hand through his hair and then swiping it down his face, trying to take the sleep along with its motion.

"How long 'til the sun comes up, Spaceman?"

"Oh we've got another 6 hours to go in here, I'm afraid. After that though, we'll be free to go." He tried making their situation less of a hassle. It could have been worse, something they both knew.

Donna groaned and let her head fall back against the bars a little too roughly, forgetting they were there and that they'd be so hard against her skull. "Ow." she hissed.

"You alright?" He worried, instinctively reaching out his hand to rub the back of her head that collided against the bars with a dull thud. She initially winced at his touch, but soon the pain lessened under his careful attention.

"I'll live." She hummed as he gingerly caressed her scalp, it was making her more tired than before.

"You should get some sleep." His hand rested casually on her shoulder.

She was somewhat offended, he could tell by the tone in her voice. "And leave you alone in the dark? Absolutely not! You'll go mad with boredom." She allowed a declarative tone to enter her voice, "We shall be tired and bored together, Martian, that's how this works." she threw her finger between herself and him. He let his hand fall, with a thoughtful look on his face, before tapping his own thigh. He looked at her and knew she got the right hint, though she didn't seem keen on acting on his implied suggestion.

"They might be skinny, but they'd make a better pillow than those bars." he offered in a hopeful tone.

Donna was hesitant at once... her head in the Doctor's lap... but then she remembered how tired she was, and couldn't deny how inviting his soft lap looked compared to the metal bars that caused her head to throb lightly even still.

She yawned, the biggest one yet. "Alright, only because I'm positively knackered." She scooted further away from him so she could lay herself down, tentatively placing her head on his leg. It was surprisingly comfortable, and she found herself nestling against it.

The Doctor was grinning, and he was glad she couldn't see, else he'd have to explain why having her close to him like this made his hearts beat more out of sync than usual, a pace that sounded a lot like a galloping racehorse rather than the steady trot they normally kept up.

He leaned over ever so slightly to retrieve his jacket he'd taken off earlier, laying it over his best friend. Feeling the comfortable weight and warmth of his coat envelope her, she sighed. "Thank you."

"Shh, just get some rest now. We'll be out of here before you know it."

"Better not be." Donna yawned through her nose, then continued, "Now that you've made me so comfortable I almost hope those guards never come."

_You and me both. _He placed his hand down on her shoulder and stroked his thumb slowly to help her drift off to sleep.

"Good night, Doctor." she wished him, voice slow, herself barely able to stand against the remaining waves of slumber calling her in deeper and deeper.

He grinned a bit wider, replying in a gentle, content tone, "Sweet dreams, Donna."

Soon, he too had fallen asleep with his head tilted back, soft snores escaping his throat, and a hand resting on her waist, one of Donna's own hands wrapping around his leg and hugging it close. It might have been a damp cell on a foreign planet, but it was some of the best sleep either of them ever had, and their dreams were the sweetest of them all.

* * *

_Next chapter might even have Jack and Martha. Thanks for stopping by! _


	25. Hide-n-Seek

**Hide-n-Seek **

_I'll warn you now, this one's a silly one, so prepare yourself for a little bit of OOC-ness._

* * *

It was Poker night, something they'd never done before, but they were glad they'd agreed to Jack's suggestion since they found themselves having a good time, and the majority of the group had been content to forgo the second part of the suggestion he made, which was not just Poker, but Strip Poker – naturally, Jack was the only one who was disheartened by the other's refusals. However, when Donna retrieved the bottle of Tequila from the cupboard and whipped up a colossal batch of her renowned margaritas, there was a smile on everyone's faces and cheerful whoops all around.

But now, there was a tense stare between Jack and the Doctor. A mountain of plastic chips served as the centerpiece, and both men had gone all in. Martha and Donna had folded early on with hands that were not promising, but they were still keen to find out which of their friends would win what was becoming the most exhilarating hand of the night.

"Ready?" Jack asked in a low tone, eyeing the Doctor from a tilted down chin and a single raised eyebrow.

"All aboard, Captain." The Doctor returned smugly, and they simultaneously laid their hands on the table, the cards revealing their worth to the four intrigued viewers.

The Doctor instantly frowned. He'd had a straight flush – five cards in numerical order and all of identical suits, but on the opposite side of the table, an Ace, a Jack, a Queen, a King, and a ten stared at him as if in mockery of his momentary feeling of triumph. Jack had laid before them a royal flush of hearts – the unbeatable Poker hand.

"You've got to be kidding me." The Doctor gulped, sinking back in his seat and watching Jack's manic grin as he spread his arms onto the table to corral the chips in front of himself.

Jack winked at him, chest puffed out, sitting straight in his chair, thoroughly pleased at his winnings. Donna rolled her eyes, and Martha drained her fourth glass.

"So Poker Prince," Donna addressed Jack, "what should we do next? You get to decide, since you so obviously won." She waved a finger lazily at the pile of plastic discs.

Jack stroked his chin, looking up and off to the side to add to his contemplative expression. "I say…" a few more seconds passed, Martha was tilting her glass vertically to get every last drop of the delicious margarita Donna had poured her. "Drunk Hide-n-Seek." Jack finally finished, loud and declaratively.

"Really?" the Doctor asked, unenthused. Obviously he was still bummed about losing to Jack.

"Well," Donna offered, "we've already got the first half of it down, we're all decently blitzed. I say let's give it a go."

"Count," Martha was interrupted by her own hiccup, "me in." she punctuated her certainty with the sound of her glass being firmly placed on the table.

After a few minutes of deliberating over the rules as Donna, Jack, and Martha explained them to the Doctor, (a task complicated by their foggy states of mind), they were finally ready to begin. Elected 'it,' Donna put her head down on the table atop her own crossed arms and began counting a sequence of numbers from zero to thirty. She may have skipped a few numbers and repeated others, but no one had cared or even heard by the time she reached five.

Martha stumbled down the hall towards the bathroom; the excitement had made her realize how urgently she needed to empty her margarita-filled bladder, while Jack on the other hand danced quite merrily down a different hall. He skipped like a loon to a bedroom and after a few failed attempts, grabbed the doorknob securely and entered. The door closed behind him with a loud click, and so naturally he turned around to shush it for daring to make noise at all.

Martha hadn't known how long she'd been in the loo, and decided it would be best to just hide out in there. She had lost sense of how much time had passed, and was mildly terrified to entertain the thought that Donna was on her way and she would be first to be discovered.

Jack hid under the queen-sized bed in the center of the room. "I've never seen one from this angle before," he mused, putting his wrists behind his head and crossing his ankles, waiting for Donna to come searching. A few silent minutes later, he was singing softly to himself.

Meanwhile, Donna was reciting the final numbers of the sequence. "Thirty-six… Thirty-seven… Thirty… oh wait," she giggled, "That's more than thirty, oops. Last chance to hide before I come and find you!" Donna called out. "Alright, that's it. Time's up! Ready or not, here I come!"

Donna shoved herself away from the table and began wandering around the Tardis in search of her targets, tracing the wall with her hand. "Alright, where'd that bunch of numpties get off to?" she said to herself.

When Donna found Martha in the shower, she scared the both of them. Both girls stuck together after that, roaming around and trying to find the boys. Donna was rambling about how much she missed her friend Shareen, because they used to get drunk all the time, but Martha snatched her wrist and shushed her, "Do you hear that?" Donna narrowed her eyes and tilted her head, trying to listen. "No. Have you gone mental, Martha?"

"I'm drunk, Donna, not crazy. I'm telling you, I hear singing." As Martha looked in the direction of the voice, Donna regarded her dubiously. Nevertheless, Martha approached a door, and slowly pushed it open. She looked at her red-headed friend and nodded for her to follow, and Donna did, albeit reluctantly. They tiptoed into the darkened room when Jack's voice reached their ears: "Captain Jack will get you high tonight, and take you to your special island. Hey now Captain Jack will get you by tonight, just a little push and you'll be smilin'…"

Donna restrained a snort from leaving her throat. Martha stood with her hands on her hips, swaying slightly and bumping into Donna, who stumbled also. "Come on, Captain," Martha said, "you've been found. Abandon your post and help us find the missing Time Lord."

Jack shuffled out from under the bed. He extended an arm to each of them, and they both wrapped their hands around an arm and hoisted Jack to his feet.

He smiled at Donna and Martha, "Ahoy, ladies."

They giggled at his tipsy attempt to wink, and soon set off to find the Doctor. Jack took his arms and looped each one through Donna's and Martha's, and the trio began looking everywhere inside the Tardis.

An entire hour later, Donna huffed an agitated sigh. "I'm knackered, let's just call it a night, eh?"

Jack nudged her shoulder from behind, "Come on babe, we've looked this long, might as well keep going."

She turned to swat at him, "Call me babe one more time and I'll properly slap you silly." She warned with slurred speech, but he ignored her venomous glare and took her into a half-hug, claiming, "I know you love it, you two are my best girls!"

"Oh, shove off." Donna shrugged him away, rather crankily, and took Martha's hand, leading her away to search for the Doctor. Undeterred, Jack followed close behind.

"I've got an idea." Martha said, sounding hopeful. "We haven't looked outside yet..."

Low and behold, as they looked around the exterior of the blue box, they noticed the figure sitting on top of her - like a young child sitting atop a parent's shoulders, sitting with crossed legs, resting his chin on his hand, connected to an elbow propped upright by the lantern's surface, sound asleep, was the Doctor. There was further silence as Jack and Martha stared up at the picture of their friend, gobsmacked that he'd chosen this particular hiding spot, while Donna on the other hand looked up with a thin line forming her mouth, a bit miffed at having spent all that time roaming the halls and tiring herself out. She thought of the perfect way to get revenge on her Spaceman.

She grabbed a hold of Jack and Martha's hands, whispering, "Come on, I've got a plan."

Sometime in the early morning:

After dozing in the library near the fireplace on three cozy couches, Donna, Jack, and Martha gathered in the galley to feed their tummies and hopefully shoo away the mild hangovers they were experiencing. Donna patted the Old Girl's door frame, thanking her silently for agreeing to help with her scheme…

The Doctor snuffled awake. All he could see around him was blue, reaching out as far as the eye could see. Azure waters rippled gently below him, and playful waves crashed against the sides of his ship. The Tardis, he reasoned, was perched on a square patch of ground only as large as the Tardis's foundation base. Lucky for her, the water failed to rise above the threshold of the twin doors. Unlucky for him, there was no way to get inside without getting wet.

"I suppose I deserve this." He sighed, standing precariously on the roof before diving in.

He entered the kitchen sopping wet as Donna, Martha, and Jack sat at the kitchen table enjoying breakfast made by the two girls. The Doctor looked like a cat that fell in the tub after peering too close at the faucet. He cleared his throat to gain their attention, looking not too pleased, but certainly not angry. Martha and Jack tried their absolute best not to laugh, while Donna smirked and rose from her chair.

She grabbed his prepared plate off the counter, still nice and hot thanks to the Old Girl. Donna slid it in front of the fourth empty seat, a plate piled high with French toast, accompanied by a huge glass of banana smoothie, with a banana muffin added on a separate small plate for good measure. The Doctor's grumpy façade melted for a moment, and he immediately sat down with a squelch. Donna, Jack, and Martha exchanged grins at the noise, and shared a triple high-five as the Doctor inhaled his breakfast.


	26. Passing the Time

**Passing the Time**

It was that time again – the Tardis was refueling, which meant there would be no traveling for at least a day. Donna and the Doctor usually tried to cure their boredom by watching the telly and cooking dinner together. Sometimes they tidied around the Tardis, sometimes they ventured through the various rooms on board, but neither of them felt like doing any of that today.

Donna sat on the jump-seat cross-legged, and the Doctor leaned against the console's railing, both hands behind his back, one foot over the other.

"We could bake a giant banana cake." He suggested.

"We did that two days ago." Donna replied.

"How about bowling?"

"I thought you said you had to tinker with the cosmic lighting in there."

"Oh yeah… what about the pool? It's been ages since we've had a swim."

"Nah, not really in the mood for swimming."

The Doctor's face suddenly lit up as what he was certain was one of his best ideas ever struck him. "I know! Come on, you'll love this!" he raced forward to grab her hand and yanked her from the jump-seat, running through the halls with his best mate right behind him.

Minutes later, they were well occupied. "Helium magna-4!" the Doctor cheered, "I don't know why I didn't think of this sooner!" He hovered above the ground, nearly at the ceiling. It was a good thing the room he chose for their activity was as lofty as a barrel vaulted cathedral.

"How do we steer?" Donna bellowed, fighting with her harness. The two of them had fifty balloons strapped to them, filled with helium – of the 'magna-4' variety – that was strong enough to make them float.

"You don't!" he happily responded.

"You seem to be doing a jim-dandy job getting around!" she angrily pointed out as he swanned around the room. Donna was certain he was doing it on purpose, the show-off. She kicked her legs, trying to catch up to him.

"What if we fall?" she asked mildly concerned as she pushed her arms out in a breaststroke. Still, she went nowhere.

"The possibility of us falling is very unlikely. As a precautionary measure though, I installed an invisible trampoline below us." He explained while gliding effortlessly, like a duck paddling gracefully through pond waters. Donna, on the other hand, flailed like a child throwing a tantrum, flapping her arms like a bird and moving her legs like she were riding a bike, trying desperately to engage in some form of motion.

The Doctor floated right past her, a smug grin on his face as he waved. She let out a frustrated shout. "Get back here! Doctor! I'll thump you so hard if you don't stop twirling about like a flippin' ballerina!" she thundered.

Calmly, so calmly it only infuriated Donna more, the Doctor appeared in front of her.

"A ballerina, eh? I'll take that as a compliment." He winked, taking hold of the front of her harness.

"Yeah, well, you better knock it off or I'll put a tutu around your neck big enough to fit around my pinkie!"

"Alright, Donna, alright. Lesson number one in Balloon Flying 101," He began towing her around, and she tried to move on her own, but she only ever went in the direction the Doctor pulled her, "no shouting." he said on a chuckle.

Her eyes widened and she gasped, trying to swat him for his cheekiness but she wasn't able to reach.

He was picking up speed now as he still held onto her harness. "Oi, you're gonna slow down, ain't ya?"

He gave no answer, just a playful smile thrown in her direction.

"Doctor?"

"Off you go!" he roared with enthusiasm, releasing his hold on her.

"Oiiiii!" she shouted as she soared across the room, not in control by any means of the direction she was heading, or at the rapid speed at which she went. The Doctor cackled merrily. Donna had managed to grab hold of a wall, and gripped it with a white-knuckle grasp. She feigned her best queasy expression. "Doctor, I don't feel so good." She swallowed thickly.

"Donna, what's wrong?" he asked as he sidled up to her, genuinely concerned and fearful he'd ruined their fun.

She smiled then, and he noticed with horror that there was an earring missing from her ear. She grabbed his harness and started pricking his balloons, each one letting out a massive rush of helium. "Donna, no! They're bigger on the inside!" he pleaded. But she wasn't listening, it was her chance for revenge and she was going all out. "That'll teach you, Spaceman!"

The more balloons she popped, the more he begged her to stop, and as he went on moaning and complaining, his voice rose in pitch, thanks to the release of helium into the air.

"Oh that's too great." Donna spoke in her own elevated voice. "You sound like a chipmunk!"

His voice chirped at her, "And you sound like a mouse." They laughed heartily at the sounds of their voices, and their high-pitched laughter only sent them reeling all over again.

One hour later:

Donna had decided to use her laptop to look up things they could do to pass the time.

"Oh here's a good one!" she said as she sat in her favorite armchair in the library. The Doctor was laying down on the couch, one arm draped over his forehead. Hearing her voice, he instantly sat up, eager to hear what the idea was that she'd found.

They made eye contact, and she read from the screen, "Try not to think about penguins."

"That's too easy." He dismissed, laying back down again.

"Ah, come on, Doctor! Let's try it." She pleaded with a pout, and he couldn't resist her, even if the task was silly.

"Fine." He sighed. "Are you thinking about penguins?" he asked her only five seconds later.

"No."

"What are you thinking about?"

"Chocolate, raspberries… chocolate and raspberries _together..._ sunshine, and raindrops… my Nan's cookies, and the color orange, how much I still hate spiders, the time I rode a camel in Egypt, and travelling with you. What about you, what are you thinking about?"

"Penguins."

She chucked a pillow at him, muttering "Bloody Martian" under her breath.

Another hour later:

"Let's try this one." She turned her laptop screen toward him.

"You sure?" he asked.

"Why not?"

"Alright, I'll meet you back here in fifteen minutes."

She abandoned her laptop on the chair, the words 'Dress like the other people in the room' illuminated by the bright screen.

He returned wearing her purple toga from the time they were in Pompeii, and she returned wearing one of his blue suits (with the help of the Tardis making proper adjustments for both of them), complete with brainy specs, converse, and a spare psychic paper she found while searching for the outfit.

"Look at me, I'm the Doctor and I'm going to save the planets from some space monster by being a genius and a total nerd." She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose for emphasis.

"And I'm Donna," he greeted, "I make delicious banana pancakes for breakfast every day."

"I do not!"

"No you don't, but I was hoping maybe you'd start." He said hopefully.

She held up the psychic paper, and he read off it, 'In your dreams, Spaceman.'

Twenty minutes later:

The prompt had been: 'See who can gargle the longest.'

It had been a good idea, but they were both very competitive, and needless to say, after eight minutes of listening to the Doctor gargling, going up and down octaves for the fun of it, Donna gave up and tickled him under the chin before leaving to think of something else.

After nearly choking, he hollered, "That's cheating! I could have broken a record!"

An hour later:

Painting was a fantastic idea. Classical music played in the background, and they sat before their canvases. Donna found a beret on the hat-stand given to her by the Tardis, and decided to wear it to feel more like an artist, and the Doctor painted a mustache on himself for the same reason.

He selected a pointed round brush to paint a picture of him and Donna having a picnic, using Georges Seurat's divisionism technique, while Donna opted for a simpler tactic, using her fingers to paint a landscape, getting carried away and failing to notice how messy she was becoming.

That evening:

After polishing off dinner, they sat in her room. He watched her telly while she did a crossword puzzle. She tapped the pen against her lip, and he couldn't help but peer down at the page.

"Forty-one across is test pilot."

She elbowed him for giving it away, "Didn't I give you one of these of _your own_ for the sole purpose that you could let _me_ do _mine_?"

"Course you did!"

Her eyebrows raised, expecting more from him than that.

"I finished it."

Her face dropped all expression. "I gave you that book last night."

"And all 300 pages were brilliant, really they were."

"Unbelievable." She sighed, returning to her puzzle.

"Sixteen down is escapade."

She sank back on the pillows with a huff.

Not too much later:

He had found a really good movie that had only just started, and turned to ask Donna if she'd seen it, but she was fast asleep, with the crossword puzzle book on her chest, pen in hand. He smiled, and was thankful they had days like this on the Tardis, where all they did was pass the time together. He realized with her, such a simple thing could be filled with an immense amount of joy, contentment, and satisfaction.


	27. Forever

**Forever **

His wrists feel like they are about to snap from the pressure of him pulling them futilely in opposite directions, the coarse fibers of the rope like steel wool cutting into his flesh. He doesn't feel that though, or the burning in his throat from how loud he keeps shouting. All he feels is the white hot grip of dread that surrounds his hearts as he watches the dagger plunge downward towards Donna's vulnerable chest.

It was a quaint village they happened upon earlier, on a day when the weather was pleasant and made one feel rejuvenated: a bright blue sky, crisp air, warm rays of sunlight, and good company. The Doctor was telling Donna about the varying architectural theories behind the designs on the buildings they passed as they leisurely strolled down the pavement. They were chatting about this and that, not having a precise purpose for the visit other than enjoying spending time together - it had been a cramped week aboard the Tardis as the Doctor had insisted on being lazy for a change ever since Donna introduced him to the idea of actually letting time go by without doing anything productive. He had to try it out for six days, despite Donna's insistence that even one lazy day would suffice to gain the experience.

On the main road, Donna asked questions when something struck her as odd or interesting, and the Doctor was more than happy to clue her in on the culture, the styles, the transportation, the alien life forms, anything and everything. He had been here before, and considered it perfect and uncomplicated - the go-to planet for a simple, refreshing walk.

They'd spotted the equivalent of a café, and entered in hopes for a bite to eat, not noticing the odd stare directed at them from across the eatery.

"You know, we passed a charming little shop on the way here. You wanna check it out?" Donna asked with a knowing grin as she and the Doctor finished their lunches. The Doctor brought the straw of his drink to his mouth, "It's moments like these I'm glad you came back." He wrapped his lips around the straw and took a sip, smiling at her as he returned the glass to the table, "What a brilliant idea, Donna! Let's go." She popped one final chip (white on the outside and yellow on the inside, interestingly enough) in her mouth, and they headed for the door.

Still, as they walked towards the shop, neither Donna nor the Doctor felt the eyes follow them down the road.

Donna was holding up a pair of teardrop earrings to herself in the counter-top mirror, turning her head to the left and right for a better view. The Doctor's reflection appeared behind her in the glass, and she tried her best to restrain the snort of laughter as she saw the enormous Native American headdress he wore, right along with a pair of dropping eyeball glasses. He made fish lips at his own reflection.

"What do you think?" he asked, bobbing his head so the eyeballs on the glasses would bounce. "Do they suit me?"

Donna didn't grace his question with an answer, she only turned to glare half-heartedly at him, but her glare couldn't hold its intensity as he again pursed his lips. She reached forward with her hand and pushed him gently on the head. "You're an absolute nutter." She remarked.

He giggled, and took the glasses off.

"Find anything?" he asked, then noticed the earrings. "Ohh, those are fantastic. You should get them. Really brings out your eyes. Besides, they're in fashion."

She turned around to face him, eyeing him incredulously, poking him in the chest, "And what do _you_ know about fashion, hmm?"

He motioned up and down with his hands at his apparel, "Uh, hello? Gallifreyan King of Fashion, obviously."

"Right." She remarked doubtfully, looking from his head gear down to the dinosaur-feet slippers his toes were tapping about in.

The same woman from the café entered the shop without Donna or the Doctor noticing. She made eye contact with the shop clerk, who pretended to look busy behind the register. The mysterious woman, with her pale yellow skin, lime green eyes, and hair the color of wool, peeping out in tufts from under the arch of the purple cloak's hood, carefully took a knife out of an inside pocket, watching the couple intently, and keeping out of their sight. She ducked inside a rack of clothing.

"You should try this on." The Doctor said, holding out a ridiculous dress – frills, glitter, ornate patterns, everything Donna wouldn't like, certainly not all together in the same piece of clothing. She turned her back to the Doctor, and plucked another item from the nearest rack, holding it out to the Doctor triumphantly. "Only if you try this."

He snatched the winged fairy costume from her and thrust the gown towards her. He eyed the costume suspiciously, particularly the tutu, but then with a curt nod and a determined expression, he said "Alright Noble, if that's how you want to do it," and with a theatrical flap of the costume, he disappeared inside a fitting room.

She looked at the discombobulated apparel hanging on the hanger in her hand, holding it out in font of her to really get a look at the mess it was, and then held it against herself. "Bloody hell." She breathed, heading for the dressing room.

The stalker swept herself inside the dressing room Donna was walking toward, and Donna hadn't noticed the occupant make herself scarce inside, as she was still looking at the dress. As she hung the item on a hook and pulled over the curtain, she thought how wonderful it was that she remembered to bring the camera. She was planning on sending a picture of the Doctor ready for The Nutcracker to both Jack and Martha. They'd get a kick out of it, and she'd get a kick out of sending it, laughing right along with them.

Donna noticed how spacious the room was, more like a walk-in closet than some of the dressing rooms she'd encountered at department stores back on Earth. There were racks of clothing inside the room, shelves of shoes, and all kinds of various accessories to choose from.

She started looking at the jackets that were hung on one of the racks, sliding them over one by one along the rod when suddenly, a face appeared. "Oh!" she gasped, both embarrassed and surprised, turning red as a tomato as the face simply kept peering at her from between two jackets. "I'm terribly sorry! I didn't know anyone was in here. Excuse me." She hastily made to retreat, and maybe sneak into the Doctor's dressing room where he could help calm her down, but the person leaped out from her hiding spot and grabbed Donna from behind, holding a knife to her neck. She clutched at the cold weapon, trying to pry it away from herself.

"Oi, I said I was sorry. I didn't mean to!" She apologized, but the pressure from the knife didn't alleviate, "Doctor, help!" she called, just before the blade pressed deeper against her throat, stopping her from making any more noise.

"Donna? You alright?" The Doctor tore aside the curtain, brown coat worn over his tutu. His face paled as he registered the immediately dire situation. "Look, whatever she's done, let's settle it some other way, yeah?"

The perpetrator did nothing, just clutched Donna tightly and stared menacingly at the Doctor. Her nostrils flared, her eyes were wide, she swayed faintly on her feet from what had to be trepidation, causing Donna to move along with her. Donna was about to speak, but the knife moved inward, and she winced. The Doctor thrust his hands up in a submissive gesture. In all the times he visited this planet, nothing like this had ever happened.

"Can't we talk? That's harmless. Talking. Let's just talk, alright?" The Doctor tried, gaining nothing. "Listen, I can't help you unless you tell me what my friend has done to offend you. Please, I'm certain it was a mistake. Just tell me."

His attention shifted to Donna, and he noticed her eyes widen in alarm. He watched her lips come together at the center, and realized as she winced again that it was another failed attempt to speak. It looked like she was trying to form the sound of a 'w' with her mouth, but before he could think of 'watch out' as a possible message, something was fastened over his head to block his vision. Not able to see, he couldn't stop the needle going into his skin, or the unconsciousness that soon followed.

The first thing he feels when he wakes up is the smooth stone beneath his bum and against his vertical spine. He finds himself seated on a stone bench, cut from the side of the cave he was inside. The cold metal against his skin alerted him to the fact that he was also chained. He could hear the sound of water droplets trickling one by one.

Turning his head to the left, he saw Donna beside him.

"Donna. Did they hurt you? Are you alright? Where are we?" Through the barrage of questions, his eyes were droopy and his head leaned against the surface of rock, as if his neck couldn't support it on its own. Donna put her also chained hand atop his knee. "I'm alright, Spaceman. Are you okay?"

"Will be, once my body sorts through whatever it was they gave me." He rubbed his head with his right hand, putting his left over the hand Donna held on his leg. He looked at her neck. "Does that hurt?" he traced his finger over the thin red line that contrasted sharply against her naturally pale skin tone.

"No, not anymore." She seemed distracted as she answered. "We have to get out of here, Doctor. Talking won't do;" she swallowed, "whoever these people are, they intend to kill us. I heard them."

He looked down at his clothes. "How'd I get back in my trousers? Where's my tutu?"

"I don't know. They dragged me out of the shop while you were still on the ground. They must have done it after I was gone." She shrugged, disappointed now that she realized she'd never had the chance to snap a picture to send to Jack and Martha.

"What about the lady with the knife? Why was she in your dressing room?" he asked inquisitively, coming back to himself more and more as the moments passed.

Donna blew a large breath out between her lips. "How the bloody hell should I know? One minute I was looking at jackets, the next minute I'm staring at someone's face. I tried to leave, I thought I'd gone into an occupied dressing room by accident, but even after I apologized, she wouldn't let me go. I couldn't even tell you about the people coming up behind you with the sack."

He picked up on the disappointment in her voice. "It's alright Donna, you did everything you could. We're both fine, it's okay." He squeezed the hand on his knee, making her grin in appreciation for the comfort he was providing.

"Why do you think they want to kill us? What could we have possibly done?" Donna asked quietly.

"I don't know, Donna, but I'm not going to let anything happen to you, I promise. We're getting out of here." He said, reaching for his sonic.

"They took it." Donna supplied flatly, reaching up to touch the cut on her neck. The Doctor growled. "Of course they did." He took a deep breath, "Cover your ears, Donna. I'm about to take a page out of your book."

"What's that?" she asked curiously.

The Doctor smiled, "Shouting!"

Donna rolled her eyes, but covered her ears nonetheless.

"Hello! My name's the Doctor!" he called. "Anyone gonna tell us what's going on? I'd like to know why you've locked up me and my friend here. I also want my screwdriver back! I mean, the least you could have done was ask first, it's only polite."

"Are you out of your tiny mind? You're really going to try teaching them manners… now!?" Donna scolded him, her hands coming away from her ears, the chains hanging down from her wrists.

The Doctor nodded to the stalagmite-bordered hall, illuminated by fire-lit torches. "It worked though, here comes someone."

The figure from the shop, accompanied by two other people clad in similar garb, approached them. Their eyes remained focused on the floor until they came to a halt in front of Donna and the Doctor, still seated on the granite bench. The woman lifted her eyes, but stared at the space between Donna and the Doctor rather than at either one of their faces.

Her voice was low and sent shivers up Donna's spine. "You have been selected for the ceremony in honor of the goddess Raka-shan." The Doctor listened with narrowed eyes, leaning his head to navigate a way toward eye contact, but finding no such connection. "The ceremony takes place once the seventh sun sets. You will come."

"Why do you need us for that?" the Doctor asked, crinkling his face in confusion.

"You will be sacrificed together, to appease the goddess."

Donna's stomach twisted in knots.

"Why a sacrifice? Why does the goddess need to be appeased?" The Doctor questioned.

"It is tradition."

"Why us?" Donna asked, her voice loud and demanding as she tried to disguise her unease.

"You are not from this time." The woman spoke monotonously, eyes still trained on the gap between the Doctor and Donna's heads.

"So?" Donna challenged.

"You are outstanding choices for the goddess Raka-shan. You are not from this time." Her robotic tone and forward stare were unwavering.

A silence fell. The gears in Donna's head were beginning to turn, while the Doctor grew angry. "Are you in charge? Is this how you maintain a good standing with the holy? Murder? I don't mean to insult your culture, but do you honestly think-"

"Doctor," Donna interrupted, "let me try."

The Doctor was surprised by the unidentifiable tone to Donna's voice. Her eyes were glistening? No, they couldn't be, why would they? The Doctor noticed her stare, dead set at the woman who still insisted on gazing forward.

"If you murder us, you'll only infuriate your goddess. You hear me? She'll unleash such a wrath on your people. On you, your children, your leaders, you'll all die horrific deaths. Do you want to know how I know?" The woman gulped. Donna's voice was venomous and sharp.

"Come on, look at me and I'll tell you the secret." Donna said, in a way that slowly drew the woman's green eyes to Donna's blue ones. For the first time, the Doctor watched the woman make eye contact. He was stunned silent and was slightly scared – he didn't know Donna's plan. She wasn't giving him any clues, not even a consoling squeeze of his hand.

"That's it," Donna coaxed, "I'll tell you why offing us won't earn you any brownie points. See him? Next to me? Go on, look. He's immortal, in a way. You sacrifice him, and he'll come right back to this world. What will your goddess make of that?" the woman looked nervous now, beginning to wring her hands.

"I bet she'll think you tried to trick her." Donna continued. "She'll be livid, won't she?" From the corner of her eye, Donna could see the two guards look nervously at one another, "He's got two hearts, you don't stand a chance sending him off to the afterlife. Good luck, sunshine." Donna had finished on a scoff, but then thought to add, "Why don't you see for yourself? Come feel his heartbeats. Just touch his chest, right there." Donna motioned with her hand where his hearts were.

"Donna-" The Doctor whispered, but Donna hushed him.

The woman cautiously came forward and placed two hands on the Doctor's chest. Tension bubbled up from the silence as she felt the rhythm of his beating organs. The Doctor asked gently as she stepped away, "Will you let us go?"

"No." she stood back, snapping into her authoritative role once more. She looked to Donna, waiting for her to speak.

"Why not?" the Doctor asked, disgruntled.

"Because," Donna intervened, staring at the woman and maintaining eye contact, forcing the tear that was ready to spill over the rim of her eye to stay put, "a sacrifice must still be made." She looked at her partner and whispered, "That's where I come in."

"What? No, not gonna happen, Donna. Forget it." He spluttered.

Donna ignored his pleas, focusing again on the alien woman, "I'm not as great as him - only human, me. Just the one heart, so you can be sure when you sacrifice me it's a one-way trip. I'll die, no coming back. Your goddess doesn't mind gingers, does she?"

"Donna! Are you out of your head?" the Doctor asked in a high-pitched voice, strained by irrepressible panic.

"Silence!" the woman bellowed, causing the two friends to flinch simultaneously. "The scarlet one is wise. She will make our goddess satisfied. She will be sacrificed after the seventh sun has set."

"You have to let him go, though." Donna spoke up urgently as the trio turned to leave them, "He's no use to you, and if you don't, your goddess will have one grumpy soul on her hands." There was a pause as the woman seemed to contemplate Donna's demand, but she eventually bowed in Donna's direction. With a wave of her hand, the two guards behind her moved forward and reached for Donna's bindings.

The Doctor squirmed uncomfortably and yelled firmly, "No! Donna, no! You can't!"

"It has to be this way." Donna said, shifting herself as the bonds were undone by the guards. She made herself sit taller as they hovered in front of her, and sniffed back disobedient tears. "If not me, then who? At least now you won't be next, and you can work on putting a stop to all this sacrifice nonsense when it's… over." She looked into his eyes, and his face was beginning to contort in the familiar way one does when the tears are about to burst like water through a dam. He was trying so hard, but she could see his fear, she knew he had no plan.

"I'll get you out, I swear on Rassilon I will." The Doctor vowed quietly, voice wavering despite how he tried to keep his emotions in check.

"Shh, now don't you start." She admonished gently, standing as the guards pulled her to her feet by the arms. She leaned forward quickly to press a kiss on his forehead. "Come on Spaceman, you've got work to do."

He moaned as the firelight receded down the cavern. He allowed himself to go a little ballistic, banging his palms down on the bench and kicking his heels against the stone in frustration. She said he had work to do. She expected him to care about stopping sacrifices after she was dead. Was she crazy? He couldn't let her be killed, in front of a crowd of people, with no one to help her. They wouldn't care about how scared she'd be, or how much pain being sacrificed would cause, or even that they were going to end her. life They were bent on celebrating, on pleasing their 'sacred goddess'.

He thought of an idea, it was the only one he could think of, and it was a long shot that it would even work. He reached into his coat pocket and was grateful to find his psychic paper tucked inside. He held it in his hands, concentrating deeply on the message he wanted to send, and to who he wanted to send it. He didn't need to be a Time Lord to know time was one thing not on his side. This _needed_ to work.

Captain Jack Harkness was enjoying his time off, it was only for a few hours, but the things you could do in a few hours when you were Captain Jack… like getting a massage from a handsome young man, for example, was always worth it. His muscles melted as strong hands roved over his back, smoothing and applying pressure as they went. The only thing to disturb his peaceful trance was the beeping coming from the table across the room. Jack recognized it instantly, and groaned.

He pushed himself up, and the masseuse stood to the side. "Five minutes, Enrique." Jack said, and the dark-haired, would-be model exited the room without a word.

Jack stepped over to the table in his birthday suit. He picked up his vortex manipulator and squinted at the letters blinking on the screen. Jack dropped the beeping wristband down onto the table, dressing as quickly as possible, lacing up his boots at lightning speed, and shrugging his long black coat on in two seconds. He put on his vortex manipulator, still flashing the letters S-O-S, left a generous amount of money on the table, and programmed the device. With the push of a button, he vanished in a flash.

The sound of a portal opening caused the Doctor to snap his head up, and the being that emerged made him smile. It actually worked! "Jack!"

"What's up, Doc?" the captain greeted with a wink.

"None of that now. Donna's in trouble. You have to get me out of here." The Doctor spoke hurriedly, worried about the guards returning and no doubt worried about his best mate.

"Where's your sonic?" Jack asked.

"I don't know. They have it somewhere. Come on Jack, find the key or something." The Doctor instructed urgently. Jack began looking around the cave, but there was nothing in there.

"Doctor, there's nothing." Jack was on the verge of giving up, but dove behind a large boulder instead. The Doctor couldn't see what Jack was reaching for, but as he stepped towards the Doctor, within a few long strides the item in Jack's hand became visible - a small rock the size of a paperweight.

"Jack, you'd better not miss." The Doctor warned. Jack heaved the rock past his head, aiming at the links holding the Doctor's wrist.

"I won't." Jack breathed deeply once, and launched his arm forward. The loud clank of metal echoed in the cave.

"They're going to hear us." The Doctor worried, but Jack kept pounding away until finally, one chain gave way. The mangled, chipped pieces fell to the floor, and Jack immediately started on the other chain, which gave way much sooner than the first.

"Alright, let's go!" The Doctor bolted upright and charged down the corridor, with Jack following close behind.

The glow of fire stopped the Doctor in his tracks, and he realized as the luminescence within the tunnel expanded, that someone was approaching. He turned around and shoved Jack and himself into a crevice, and there they hid until the people passed by. The figures entered a room, and as the heavy wooden door opened, the Doctor could hear Donna's voice. "Ow, not so tight! What is that? I don't want that! No, don't you dare!"

He was about to make an escape from their hideout but Jack quickly stopped him. "Wait!" he whispered, "They're coming out."

Seconds later, Donna passed them without seeing them, escorted by the same two guards as before, along with four priestesses. They had changed Donna's clothes, and they'd taken her hair out of the bun it had been in. She wore a typical gown, nothing incredibly ornamental about it, except the lace at the hem and on the edges of the sleeves. Her ginger hair fell in vibrant waves down her back, the lively color contrasted against the white garment.

"Donna." The Doctor said before he could stop himself, but she must not have heard him. Jack gave him a sympathetic look, "Don't worry Doc, we're going to rescue our damsel." He leaves the hole in the wall first, and both he and the Doctor follow behind Donna without being noticed.

They approached a vast archway, and it opened up into an expansive arena, with one platform in the middle, and an altar atop that. Donna was ushered through the crowd, the path created for her disappearing as the gathering of onlookers seemed to swallow her up.

"What are we doing?" Jack asked. Donna was seated on the rectangular table, a solid brick of grey rock. The hands of all the priestesses were on her as they laid her down together, fastening the ropes above her head like Donna dreadfully remembered in Pompeii.

The Doctor was trying not to break his teeth from biting down so hard at how close he was becoming to losing Donna. He returned his attention to Jack's question, and pointed to the left, beside the platform. "That table there, it has my sonic on it. If we can get that, I can get us out of here."

"I'll distract them, you go for the screwdriver." Jack patted the Doctor firmly on the shoulder before they headed in separate directions. Taking in a breath to calm his nerves, the Doctor leapt into action - ducking past people and sneaking by them trying not to be noticed. He was at the front of the crowd when he heard Jack's voice.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if I can have your attention please!" Jack stood on a balcony. How he got up there so quickly, the Doctor would never know. "Let us celebrate all that is sacred, let us use our bodies to express how devoted we are. My fellow people, let us dance!" He announced, rather convincingly. He began to do the Macarena. "Come on everybody, time to tango. Copy me! That's right, just like this, hands out, turn them up, you're doing great!"

About half the group was following, which the Doctor could hardly believe.

"Conga line, go!" Jack started a line of spectators behind him, trailing along the balcony, heading toward the main level down the stairs. He rolled his wrists around themselves, punching the air to the sides and kicking out his feet as he hummed a beat.

The Doctor had his hand on the sonic when loud gasps drew his attention away. He looked to see that the row of people stopped its snake-like motion, and at the front stood Jack, face to face, chest to chest, with the mysterious woman. She glared at him, though soon turned to climb atop boulder, turning the same glare on the crowd of people, all of which instantly cowered.

"This is a mockery of our ceremony! You should all be ashamed. Do not deviate from tradition, or goddess Raka-shan is disgraced by this! If I were you, I would pray for mercy. Return to your places, and the sacrifice will begin."

Jack didn't move. Suddenly the woman's green eyes fell upon the Doctor, and he began to sweat. "Guards, that man is a prisoner. Tie him, and let him bear witness."

For the second time, his wrists were bound. He thrashed against the two burly men, screaming out for Donna. On the slab of stone, she turned her head slightly, letting it loll to the side without much control. It was then that he noticed the glossy, unfocused look in her eyes, and the heavy way her eyelids drooped.

"No." the Doctor breathed. "No, you've poisoned her! You've drugged her!" He was livid. "What did you give her!?" he shouted angrily, fighting the hold they had on him with increased strength and determination, with a fury that would have sent the Cybermen running way at full speed. "Donna!" he shouted. Not only were they going to kill her, but they'd drugged her, too. She couldn't even help herself.

He focused on getting his hands free, this time they were secured with ropes instead of metal chains. He can break free, surely, after all, rope is more malleable than metal. If he just keeps pulling, he can break free. No matter how much he yanks and tugs, the ropes do not budge, the fabric cutting into his skin the more he pulls. He's definitely sweating now. He can hear some recital of ancient prayer, and he can see the glinting surface of the dagger as it's lifted off a velvet pillow. The woman with woolly hair raises it above Donna, and he knows there's only seconds left before it swoops down and impales the fragile flesh of his best mate.

He goes for the sonic he slipped into his pocket before the guards pulled him away from the little table. He presses the button and the ropes fall, he shakes his hands to get the material to fall away, as it began sticking to his raw, sticky wounds.

"Oh no you don't." says one of the guards, lunging forward and capturing the Doctor in a vice-like hold. The arms of the man were twice as thick as the Doctor's, and he couldn't push them off.

He looks up in time to see the woman's arms racing down, and then she isn't there. He blinks multiple times, looking at Donna's chest to see the blood, but the dagger isn't even in sight. Jack suddenly emerges from behind the altar where the woman had been standing, and he gets Donna's ropes untied.

The guards abandon the Doctor and race forward toward Jack once they realize he is stealing what was to be the sacrifice, but by the time they reach the stone table through the spooked audience, Jack has Donna hoisted into his arms, and he is darting through the sea of spectators. The Doctor shoves people out of the way as he makes his way toward them. All that's on his mind is Donna.

He catches up with him and takes Jack by the bicep, leading him out of the cave. They exit, running up an inclined ramp. When they look around, they realize the entire cave existed underground, beneath the modern and futuristic strip of pavement where he and Donna had been before when they found the little café.

"This way!" Jack runs to an alley, and he squats behind a parked hover-car, Donna holding onto him. The Doctor crouches beside him and reaches for Donna's wrist to check her pulse. Her eyes are closed, but she isn't asleep.

"Is she alright?" Jack asks, and somewhere the Doctor is touched by the concern he shows. He will be grateful for all eternity that he had been able to get to Donna before the knife completed its trajectory.

"I don't know." He said grimly. "Donna? Can you hear me? Come on, Donna. Open your eyes for me." Donna blinks her eyes open - she can't see very well, and she feels a bit numb, like she's floating, but it's a disconcerting feeling, rather than a pleasant one. Her stomach aches, her head throbs, and her mouth feels like it's been lined with cotton.

She wanted to answer the Doctor, but her throat wouldn't make noise. She looked up at him, at Jack, and tried again. No sound.

The Doctor sensed her panic, saw the rogue tear that slid its way from the corner of her eye. "Don't worry, you're going to be okay." She knew hearing him give such a generic assurance wasn't good news. It meant he didn't really know what was wrong. He scanned his sonic over her, "It'll wear off." He wiped her tear away, and she closed her eyes again, leaning in towards Jack's chest where it was warm. Jack tucked his jacket around her.

The Doctor placed his hand on top of her head, but he looked at Jack, "We have to get her to the Tardis. I have no idea what they gave her."

"Let's go then." Jack suggested, and the Doctor nodded in agreement. Jack shifted Donna in preparation to stand, but Donna whimpered and Jack froze. "What's wrong?" Jack asked, fearing he'd caused her pain. He strummed his thumb over her shoulder where his hand held her, trying to pacify her distress.

"S-stop." She managed, staring directly, she hoped, at the Doctor.

"Stop what?" he asked.

"Sacrifices." she said on an exhaled breath.

"Donna, we can't now. We're fugitives. We'll be wanted dead or alive across this region of the galaxy by now. They wouldn't listen."

"Try." She spoke meekly, even though she tried to sound serious. Whatever was wrong with her was making her feel like a helpless baby and she hated it.

"I'm sorry, Donna." He held her hand.

"You have to." She tried again, ushering all of her strength into her fingers so she could squeeze his hand tighter. She might have been drugged, but she knew what was right, and that was stopping the life-loss of innocent people.

"What's she talking about?" Jack inquired softly.

"She wants me to put an end to the sacrifices on this planet, to the killing of innocent people, but there's no way I can do that now." He looked at Donna, "There's no time."

"I might be able to help." Jack shifted Donna so she would be in the arms of the Doctor. He stood up, looking down at the Time Lord. "What's the goddess look like?"

"I don't know." The Doctor frowned.

Jack pursed his lips together. "I'll just program it to appear how they would want to see it."

"What are you doing?" the Doctor asked, as Jack fidgeted with his vortex manipulator.

"The holographic feature. I've tweaked it so it can change voices. Watch." Jack grinned. He held his wrist to his mouth, holding down one of the buttons.

The hover-car's radio blared to life, as did the television screens inside the bar across the way, and the digital screens and billboards in the city square. A woman appeared, transmitting from Jack's vortex manipulator. Her voice matched the movement of Jack's mouth, but it definitely wasn't Jack's voice coming from the figure, the figure, the Doctor noted, who looked a lot like Gwen Cooper from Torchwood.

Gwen's doppelganger spoke, "People of this planet, I am your goddess." The Doctor stared up at Jack with complete befuddlement, and Jack winked. "I have manifested today because I refuse to tolerate such barbaric offerings any longer. You think sacrifices please me? They disgust me, they make me weak with shame for the culture you have developed into. You must no longer draw blood - not a single drop - if I am to be appeased. Do this, and I will ensure a healthy harvest, good will, and prosperity to all who obey."

Jack let his finger off the button and the hologram vanished from the screens and the radio static went mute. "There, problem solved." Jack brushed his hands after his job well done.

"I knew I always liked him." Donna muttered from below, and Jack beamed.

The Doctor rose to his feet, Donna clutching at his jacket. "Time to go. Jack, I trust you can hot-wire this lemon."

Jack scoffed, "Can I hot-wire this lemon… is my name Jack Harkness?" he laughed for added showmanship and hopped into the driver's seat, ducking below the wheel to pluck and fuse wires.

The Doctor carefully opened the rear door and laid Donna across the backseat. The car roared to life, and Jack gave a triumphant shout. "Whoo baby! We're in business now!"

The Doctor leaned down towards Donna's face. "Don't ever do that again."

"Thank you." she whispered nearly inaudibly as he was beginning to pull away, and the Doctor offered a warm grin. He placed his hand on her forehead as the car hovered off the ground, Jack gripping the steering wheel tightly. The Doctor brushed hair from Donna's eyes with his fingertips, and briefly knitted his eyebrows together. He pressed his lips against the skin on Donna's forehead.

"Alright Doc," Jack called, "time to be a good navigator and tell me where I'm taking this thing." They can all hear sirens wailing. Donna closed her eyes.

The Doctor climbs to the passenger seat, leaving Donna to rest. "See those?" he's pointing at the bright globes of fire that serve as the planet's seven suns. "Aim for the fourth one."

Jack opened and closed his mouth several times before clarifying, "That's a sun, Doctor. You want me to drive us into a burning sphere of gases? I was thinking the Tardis would be our destination." The Doctor looked back at Donna, so Jack clarified, "Are you sure that's what you want?"

"The faster the better, Jack. Donna's got a fever." Jack took a look at the backseat where Donna was lying, either sleeping or unconscious, but seeing her prone form made him nod to the Doctor to signify he would do as asked, even if he didn't completely understand. He turned the wheel to the left a bit, and raised it up, pressing his foot down on the pedal as far as it would go.

"See," the Doctor began to explain, "their fourth sun is the smallest. Any damage we cause it won't have any negative impact on the planet's survival. They could really do with just three suns anyway. If we drive into it, they'll think we're dead." He glanced back at the police hover crafts which seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"Won't we be?" Jack asked, holding his arms steady as the wheel trembled, fingers wrapped tightly around the wheel, knuckles going white. There was an increasing amount of turbulence the closer they came to the sun.

"No, that's why I'm brilliant." He smiled. Jack still didn't understand, but he maintained the distance between their car and the police cruisers behind it.

The heat was penetrating the interior of the car, and glass began to shatter. "Doctor!" Jack yelled, seeing the sun mere feet away. He closed his eyes and gripped the wheel with all his might. The Doctor leaned over Jack, holding the sonic screwdriver to his vortex manipulator. Just as the vehicle was surrounded by flames, the car vanished, though it wouldn't have looked that way to the police who slammed their brakes and watched as the sun erupted and collapsed on itself.

The entire car was teleported into the Tardis, and at first it fizzled into existence within the control room, but a loud creak and a shriek registered on the Doctor's senses before he realized they were teleporting again. He was petrified the Tardis would spit them back out in a panic, but all of a sudden there was water rushing in from the broken windows.

"Get out!" the Doctor yelled to Jack, who forced his door open and swam to the surface of the swimming pool. The Doctor grabbed Donna, who fought feebly to reach him, and pushed her through the open door, dragging her up to the surface along with himself. She was coughing and spluttering as Jack pulled her out of the water from the Doctor's grasp.

She turned on her hands and knees, trying not to be too alarmed by how much her lungs were burning. There were hands patting her back. "I'm starting to think I was better off sacrificed." She joked when she'd gotten enough oxygen. She tried to stand but her legs wouldn't support her. The Doctor caught her before she could fall, and scooped her up into his arms. "To the med-bay with you, Ms. Noble."

After she'd been given an antidote the Doctor invented, the three of them sat in the library, joking about how to get the car out of the pool. It certainly was a sight.

After Jack had returned to Torchwood, graciously thanked by both Donna (for ingeniously solving the issue of sacrifices on the planet) and the Doctor (for saving Donna), the silence in the room made Donna able to comfortably doze, curled up in the armchair. The Doctor walked over to Donna with a blanket from the back of the sofa.

She snuffled awake, "Oh no, that's alright. I'll just get myself to bed. Thank you, Spaceman." Donna was about to get up, but the Doctor stopped her with his open palm. "Wait, Donna. I want to ask you something." He sat beside her on the arm of the chair, taking her hand in his own.

"What?"

He looked at her for a few moments, thinking how lucky he was not to have lost her today. "Why did you do that? Why would you sacrifice yourself? It would have made more sense for me to go."

Donna looked up at him with a confused expression. She felt that what she was about to say ought to be common knowledge. "I've told you a million times, Doctor. I said forever, and I meant exactly that - forever, but I never said forever without you." She squeezed his hand. "I care about you, you daft Martian."

He smiled, the tickle in his nose and wetness of his eyes beyond his control. He leaned down and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face over her shoulder.

"Don't you know I care about you just as much? Silly Earthgirl."

Her chin rested atop his own shoulder, and she wrapped her arms around his scrawny back tighter at his confession, closing her eyes and enjoying the comfort and love that radiated from him. He felt the exact same when he held onto her; comfort, love, and friendship.


	28. Maintenance and Repairs

**Maintenance and Repairs **

He scrolled through the digital list on his wallet-sized tablet for the first time all day, knowing full well he would be lucky to get just two things checked off. His faintly aggravated mind would be distracting him, the words he exchanged with Donna just minutes earlier giving him grief. Still, tasks had to be tackled, no matter how much he couldn't be bothered to care.

1\. Change time rotor bulbs

2\. Grease navigational levers

3\. Tighten squeaky knob

4\. Figure out why Old Girl keeps landing upside down

5\. Organize boxes under grating

6\. Install the new jump-seats

7\. Bring your wife a fresh cuppa

8\. Adhere central panels

The Doctor read his maintenance checklist, but furrowed his brow when he came to number seven. "Wait, what?" he said aloud. He went back and read it again.

7\. Bring your wife a cup of tea, and a kiss

He looked at the ceiling. _Is this you, Old Girl? _

Her lights twinkled in affirmation.

_She should come to me._ He mentally returned, defiantly pointing out his chin.

_No she shouldn't, and you know it. Support her, my thief. Do not have arguments at this stage of her condition. _

_That's exactly why I don't think we should make a trip to Chiswick yet! I know she wants to, but I think it's too close to her due date. I don't want to risk it._

_You said that last time…_

_I know, I just worry._ He placed his tablet down onto the jump-seat beside him. _Wilf_,_ now, he's wonderful, it's Sylvia that makes me nervous. If she and Donna argue, Donna could become stressed, she could go into premature labor. I have to protect her, Old Girl, and the baby. _

_My silly thief, you'll be there to help if things get out of hand. She wants to visit her family. You don't really want to be the one to deny her that, do you?_

He sighed, letting his head drop. _Alright, alright. I'll go make peace._ He tucked the tablet into his trouser pocket, heading for the kitchen to put the kettle on.

_Don't forget the Bourbons. With marshmallows. _She added, knowing what Donna was craving from the connection they shared. The Doctor saluted, and the Tardis blew a puff of warm air over him in return.

He knocked softly on their bedroom door, entering a moment later. She was laying on her side on the bed, watching their 8-month-old son flip through a book about a bunny name Bunky who played the saxophone. He held the book in one hand and waved it up and down, giggling like mad when Donna tickled his tummy.

The Doctor walked over and placed the mug of tea and plate of biscuits (and marshmallows) on the bedside table, grinning animatedly at the wee Time Tot. He scooped him up and held him above his head, making all kinds of ridiculous noises just to see him smile. Donna smiled, too, watching her two boys contentedly with one hand over her very swollen belly. She felt tiny but powerful kicks. "Your daughter really wants in on the action."

The Doctor laughed lightly. "Oh, is that so?" he asked. "Let's say hello then." He spoke in high tones, kissing the top of his son's head. He leaned on the bed with his son clutched close, whispering at Donna's stomach. "Hello, baby girl. Your daddy, your mummy, and your older brother are waiting very patiently out here, but we really can't wait to meet you. Once I apologize to mummy, you'll get to meet your Nan, and your great granddad." he rested his forehead against her stomach as he spoke next, "You're gonna love us, but it won't be nearly as much as we're all gonna love you." He kissed her tummy and Donna grabbed his hand.

"Thank you." She said.

He sat forward, whispering "I'm sorry for before, darling," punctuating his apology with a tender kiss on the lips. They touched noses and stayed that way, both enjoying the moment, until a certain someone started fussing in his daddy's arms.

Donna smiled as the fussing escalated to fully fledged cries. The Doctor looked down at the wiggling infant. Donna scooched herself off the bed. The Doctor stood, shushing, rocking, and bouncing. He noticed Donna waddling away, "Where are you going? I brought biscuits! And marshmallows!" he desperately added, the incessant wailing causing his ears to ring. She really was better at calming their baby down than he was.

"Um, bladder of a pregnant woman…" she defended, because it should be obvious by now. "I'll be right back." She disappeared behind the door of the en suite bathroom. It was once located down the hall, but the Old Girl didn't see the sense in that anymore, now that she was pregnant again.

The Doctor continued to soothe the squealing child, muttering, "You've got your mother's set of pipes, haven't you?" The baby wailed louder as if to prove it.

"Alright, alright." He cooed, "It's okay, Daddy's got you." He walked over to the window, where the Tardis either took pity on him or wanted the baby to stop whining as much as he did, and showed the baby the dazzling array of stars and galaxies the Tardis arranged. The baby settled instantly, snuffling still, but thoroughly mesmerized by the twinkling of cosmic dots.

Donna came up behind them. Her son placed his hand on the glass pane. She chuckled softly, "Oh, would you look at him… he's 110% you."

"Don't say that," the Doctor pouted, "I want them to be all you, all ginger, and blue-eyed, and beautiful, and freckly, and funny, and loving, and smart, and did I mention beautiful? She's going to be a mini-Donna, she is." he declared, nodding towards her stomach. Donna rested her head against his shoulder.

"I love you, Spaceman." she sighed contentedly.

"Love you, Donna." he pressed an affectionate kiss to her temple.


	29. Laryngitis

**Laryngitis**

It had started as a cold, nothing but a sore throat and a runny nose, but when the fever, loss of voice, painful swallowing, and slightly swollen lymph nodes showed up to the party, she knew something was definitely wrong. What she didn't know, was that the Doctor could be affected by the very same symptoms.

It was his fault, really it was. He was the reason they'd gotten tossed into a damp old dungeon in the first place. He just _had_ to sneak over the ten-foot wall - going through the front door even though he had psychic paper just didn't occur to him. 'Superior Time Lord intelligence, my arse,' Donna thought as she sat in bed beside him.

She knew though, that it had been her who chose to shout relentlessly for the guards to pay them some attention. Would she admit that? Never – it wasn't the Donna Noble way of doing things.

While the humidifier sent puffs of vapor into the air of her bedroom, she felt a nudge on her arm. Taking her attention away from her television screen, she turned her head to see the Doctor holding up his white board.

"I don't know how this happened." It read in blue letters, and she knew he was referring to the germs she shared with him, as he had complained about it nearly non-stop since he came down with symptoms identical to her own.

Donna picked up her own board and purple marker, and wrote, "Old age" before turning it toward him.

His expression was one of horror as he rapidly scribbled. "Take that back!"

"No, you're an old coot! I blame you for this."

"Me!? You're the one who shared the germs!" he pointed his finger against the surface of the board with a firm 'thud.'

The Tardis hummed at them in warning, as if to say 'no fighting' to a couple of unruly children.

Donna rolled her eyes.

"What are you doing now?" he wrote.

"It's too hot," she replied, with an added frowny face for emphasis.

He watched her fan herself after she threw the light sheet away. The end credits on the telly were scrolling up the screen now.

He bundled up in one of the blankets from her bed as she was turned away. Though there were many times he questioned her having as many as she did, he was immensely grateful as the warmth of the duvet helped to quell the chill.

She had popped a movie into the DVD player. She turned towards the bed and as soon as she saw the Doctor she scrambled over to him as fast as her aching muscles would allow. She tried to pry the heavy blanket away, but when his iron grasp didn't relent, she reached for the white board instead. "You can't bundle up like that – you have a fever, you dunce!" She erased to make more room. "Use my sheet. Stupid Martian."

He wrapped it around himself after mildly glaring at her. After only a few seconds of returning to the bed, Donna began to rub her hands up and down her arms, drawing her knees close to her chest.

"Too cold?" the Doctor's board read.

She nodded, and he opened his cocoon to her. She entered in hurriedly, cuddling into his side. He shuffled them down a bit so they could recline some more, and when the iconic Star Wars music emanated from the speakers, he wrote to her, "You are bloody brilliant."

She saluted her thanks and gave him a gentle smile. Alright, so she may have felt a little guilty at having gotten him sick right along with her, with laryngitis to boot. The least she could do was choose one of his favorites.

Half-way through the film, she put her board insistently in front of his line of vision.

"Honey?" it read.

Glancing at her with a sly grin, he wrote to her, "Yes?" he smiled broadly. 'Cheeky alien git,' Donna thought to herself as she let her head fall back in frustration. She would have let out a groan if not for the laryngitis. She wrote somewhat furiously.

"HONEY DROPS." She wiped the board and wrote next: "Where are they?"

He passed the bag to her and she fished one out, popping one into her mouth. If it wouldn't have been painful to do, she would have sighed greatly at the relief it brought, the soothing, sweet taste going down her throat in tiny waves, extinguishing the raw sting like a fire being doused with water.

By the time Luke and Darth Vader were dueling, Donna had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He brushed hair from her face, and at his touch she snuggled into his side. He touched her forehead with the back of his fingers, and was thankful her fever was finally going down, as was his own. With any luck, he would be able to hear her voice in the morning. He certainly had missed it.


	30. Find Someone

**Find Someone**

_Spaceman,_

_You being in my room now can only mean one thing – you miss me. My dear, poor old man, you miss me, don't you?_

_Believe me, I might not know it, but I miss you, too. I slipped away to write this quick note. You're in the the other room and don't even know I'm gone, but that's alright, it's better this way: that clever half Time Lord brain of mine let me see what was going to happen, and as much as I wish things could be different, as much as I wish I could be there with you right now, I understand why you did it, and I don't blame you. Okay, I may be a bit miffed to be going back to Chiswick, but I won't remember this anyway – it'll be like I never left home at all. _

_Don't beat yourself up over what happened to me, or what you had to do tonight. Don't you for a second spend any more time in my room mourning over silly me. I'm not worth it compared to all the marvelous things you could be dong with your time instead. You mustn't blame yourself, Spaceman! I mean it! Besides, I'm grateful for every minute we had, and I would do it all over again at the very buzz of your sonic screwdriver. I don't want to be cross with you in what is going to be, or what now is, our last conversation, but next time you find yourself in this state of mind, imagine my hand coming up to slap you good and proper, because you see, this trip to my room has to be the end of it. The universe needs you to keep it safe, and you can't do that from inside my room, now can you?_

_But Doctor, on the odd chance you do figure out a way to sort me out, do it. Please. I don't care how old I am, or if you've regenerated a hundred times, if someday you think up something 'Martian,' come see me._

_Now, quit moping and go see what I left for you in the back of my closet. It was supposed to be a Christmas present. I really think you're going to like it… _

_All my love,_

_Donna_

The Doctor placed the letter on the bed, and approached the closet. He peered in at all the fabric hanging motionless and abandoned. He gently reached a hand out to touch what had been a favorite purple tunic of hers, but he couldn't - it would smell less like her and more like him if he pressed his face into it the way he yearned to. Instead, he turned his attention to the floor, where a flat rectangle package sat caddy-cornered. It was wrapped in elegant gold colored paper, finished with a red velvet bow.

Bending to retrieve it, he gingerly lifted it to his chest, walking over to her bed where he sat softly, contemplating the gift in his lap. He ran a hand over the smoothness of the paper's surface - Christmas was months away, yet she'd already gotten him something. Should he wait until Christmas? He sadly remembered how much she hated the holiday when they'd first met, remembered how she'd come to change her mind and fall in love with it again, and then, remembered that she would probably go right back to hating it. He remembered as a tightness wrapped around his hearts, that the Donna he had come to know and depend on, didn't really exist anymore.

He sighed heavily and closed his eyes, taking the gift in hand. He tore away a piece of paper, down the left corner, the shrill noise cutting through the silence. He kept his eyes shut all the while, until there was no more paper to be felt at his fingertips. He looked down.

It was them. Pictures of them together, at all of their favorite places, doing fun things, laughing, smiling, standing next to each other with their arms around them - hers on his shoulder, his on her waist - pictures of them posing and making goofy faces. It was a collage of everything he loved about their friendship. It was so precious.

His chest became saturated with heavy pain and heartache the longer he looked. It was obvious that they were a couple. He didn't see it in real time, in the moment, that she had loved him. He was caught up in her too much to realize it, he was too afraid of taking the next step. He shouldn't have been scared, he could see in her eyes that she felt the same for him. He tenderly stroked the glass; there it was, the love he'd never have again. But it was there, and now he had proof he could never deny - there had been real love between them, and in that he took a small comfort.

Running his fingers over the smooth glass where her face beamed at him from beneath the transparent pane, he giggled at the one where they were laughing open-mouthed - the alien who kindly offered to take the photo for them had taken nothing but selfies as he tried to figure out how the camera worked, and when he finally pressed the button with the lens facing in the correct direction, the Doctor and Donna had been seized by a fit of laughter at the comical absurdity of their situation. It was one of his favorite pictures.

One teardrop landed with a microscopic 'plop' onto the glass, and he wiped the corner of his eye as the smile remained. Just then, the Tardis blew a puff of air over him, and she wound up knocking Donna's letter to the floor. The Doctor bent to pick it up, and noticed her hand-writing on the back that he hadn't noticed before.

_Why you couldn't sense her is beyond me. Must have been missing that little bit of human. I've already logged in a range of coordinates to the Tardis's navigational system, and if you haven't been walloping her with the mallet (and maybe if you say please), all you have to do is ask her to find Mescaline Shuttle #2786-549. I want you to find someone, and there isn't anyone better out there than your daughter. _

And with that, the Doctor ran to the console, punching in the right commands, sending up a silent 'pretty please with new spark plugs on top,' and mentally vowed to take Jenny to all the places he wanted to go with Donna. He wiped at his eyes again, and prepared for his next adventure, stepping through the Tardis doors and looking at the shuttle, gracefully landed on a beach.

How bittersweet, he thought, to find her on a beach, one of Donna's favorite places to go...

* * *

_So, I'm ending this story here - I have more ideas to write, but I figure 30 chapters is a good place to leave things. The next set of short stories I have in mind will be put under a new title, I'm thinking 'Forever and Always'. Too cheesy? _

_The format will be exactly like this story, it's basically just a continuation. Hope this makes sense! Thanks so much for reading, and I'll see you next time! _


End file.
